A Caged Bird
by Devon Goes to Heaven
Summary: Oliver Queen returns from the island to discover that Laurel has been missing for months. Very Lauriver and heavy comic canon influences. TW: Rape/Sexual Assault
1. Lost Girl

**_Disclaimer:_** _I don't own Arrow or any of the DC comics character used in this story. This is for entertainment purposes only, and no profit is made off of this fanfiction._

 ** _AN:_** _Loosely inspired by Jessica Jones, and completely inspired by the recent unfair death of Laurel Lance. I'm so angry, and this story does not contain Felicity Smoak's character at all. She is the bane of my existence. This is very Lauriver, and has season one and two influences. There is no Olicity bullshit, or random fanservice. Also very heavy comic influenced. You have been warned. There are trigger warnings for rape as well._

 _ **A Caged Bird**_

 _Lost Girl_

 _Dinah Laurel Lance - always trying to save the world._ But, she can't - not when she's stuck in her own head. She's not sure how long it's been since she's been out of control, but she's sure it's been a few months. Her father must be searching still, and her sister is probably devastated. Oliver, _well_ , he's not exactly alive anymore.

"Come here," that voice calls to her. "I need you."

 _No_ , she wants to say. She can't, and she knows her efforts are hopeless. She has no control, and she will never regain that control. She's no longer _Laurel_. She's just a puppet to Count Vertigo, and that is all she'll ever be. She tries in vain to resist one last time, but she goes. It's hopeless. She's lost control, and she'll never be herself again.

* * *

It's the one burning question that he's been waiting to ask Tommy since his return. He takes a deep breath, and he finally utters the words _how is Laurel_. Tommy freezes for a moment, and Oliver can see the pain in his eyes. Their relationship was not without it's conflict when he left. Oliver knows that he could have treated her better - that he could have done better by her. He hopes that she doesn't hold a grudge. He hopes that they might at least be able to be friends.

Then, Tommy answers, and Oliver's world falls apart. "No one has seen Laurel for months."

It takes him a moment to process the words, and almost automatically his mind tries to come up with some sort of rational explanation. She must have ran off to some remote location in Hawaii. It must be how she's coping with the stress of his disappearance. It must still effect so deeply. She's just _coping_. She's not _gone_.

"Is she on vacation? I'm sure she's told Sara…"

"Oliver," Tommy's voice hardens. "I know how much stress you've been under, and you've finally just got back. But, Laurel…"

Tommy shakes his head and a grave look emerges on his face. "Oliver, look, I know you just got back..."

" _Tommy_ ," Oliver's jaw clenches as he utters the next three words one by one. "Where...is...Laurel?"

"Okay…" Tommy breathes. "There was this case she was involved in - she's, uh, a lawyer now. The DEA were trying to arrest a man known as Count Vertigo and prosecute him for drug changes and kidnapping. One day, she just didn't come into work - no phone call or anything. And, then a day turned into a week. They searched her apartment and practically the whole damn city. She was just _gone_ , Oliver. It's been three months now. No one has a lead on where she might be."

Every muscle in Oliver's body tenses. His father's book - his mission - is still burning in the back of his mind. _It will have to wait_. She is what is important right now, and this city will have to rot for just a few more days. Because, it's Dinah Laurel Lance, and she is more important than revenge.

Oliver wants to hurt this Count Vertigo. He wants to skin him alive, and burn the rest of his body. He wants to turn that man inside out until he no longer feels human. The thought of tormenting this man seems to consume his every being.

"Tommy, I'm going to find her."

"Oliver," Tommy's voice is stutters slightly. "The DEA...the FBI, they are more qualified for this. I wish there was something we could do, but…"

"No, Tommy... _fuck that_!" Oliver screams as he slams his first hard against a wall. "Someone in this city knows something, and we're going to find that person."

Tommy's eyes lower to the floor. There's this hopeless look that sends chill down Oliver's spine. "There are no leads on Count Vertigo. No one even knows what he looks like."

Oliver draws in a deep breath and releases it. He can see Laurel's beautiful smiling face, and he almost remembers the texture of her soft brown hair. He hears her say his name, and he feels a rush of energy at the thought of her soft lips. He wasn't good enough for her when he left, and he might not even be good enough for her now. But, he's going to do right by her. He's going to find her no matter what it takes.

"Someone knows something," Oliver says. "We have to get that person to come forward."

"A charity event?" Tommy says. "It would help the Lance family, and maybe someone that knows something can come forward."

Oliver nods. "When I open my new night club, the first night we'll host an event."

 _And, if someone comes forward with any kind of information, I'll find her_. Oliver feels that rage boiling within him again. When he finds her, he will make sure to always keep her safe. He thinks of that smile, and it gives him all the drive in the world to save her.

* * *

It's called _V_ \- a date rape drug that swept the city over night. Laurel remembers when it surfaced. The first victim, a nineteen year old girl, explained the effects. A man at a college party injected it into her, and suddenly she was under her control. Laurel could tell that the police didn't exactly believe her story until others came forward, and soon the drug was texted with the results that poor girl described.

Laurel always believed her, and she tried in vain to prosecute the man that raped her. The jury failed that girl like they do to so many victims of sexual assault. Laurel swore she'd find the man responsible for the drug and she'd prosecute him. She swore to that girl, and now, here she is under that man's command.

It's a horrible drug. She can move at her own will throughout the penthouse apartment, but the moment she gets to the door, she can't leave. It's like a horrible curse that he's dispelled upon her. When he injects that drug, her body does as he commands. Laurel glances at the clock. She hopes that maybe he'll be late this time.

 _Just thirty more minutes…_

Laurel needs to clear her head - anything to get her mind off the clock. She walks to the living room and turns on the television. She sees _it_ on the news. Her heart races and tears brim her eyes as Oliver appears on the screen. He's _alive_. The drug seems to wear down just a little bit more, and that groggy feeling is starting to release.

 _Twenty more minutes_.

Laurel hasn't felt hope for so long, but there's this spark in her chest now. Her eyes flicker up to the clock - _only fifteen more minute_ s. If he's late, she could maybe run. She hears the door crack open, and every muscle in her body tenses.

"Laurel...I need you."

Laurel tries harder than ever to resist, but her body betrays her mind. She's walking towards him. He has this sick grin across his pale face, and a needle in his hand. He injects the needle into her skin, and she feels that haze fall over her again. She wants so much to fight against it, but she just can't.

He places both of his pasty white hands on her cheeks. He looks into her eyes and says, "I love you so much Laurel Lance. Tell me you love me."

"I love you," the words feel like acid on her tongue.

"Tell me you'll never leave me," he orders.

"I'll never leave you."

She hates herself. If she could just be stronger, maybe she could fight this. But, she's not. And, she still feels like a caged bird.


	2. Find Laurel Lance

**_AN:_** _First and foremost, thank you for your reviews favs and follows. I'm glad there are people out there that really support Laurel Lance and the Lauriver ship. I'm glad this fandom isn't a big Olicity Pit. The last chapter was something I typed up after discovering Laurel's death. I wasn't sure where I was going with it, but I have a clear path of what I want to do with this now. This chapter is a little bit longer and the plot starts to move a bit faster here. I hope you all enjoy it, and tell me what you think! Thank you all for your support._

 ** _A Caged Bird_**

 _#FindLaurelLance_

The opening night of The Verdant is a success. The turnout is above original expectations, and the guests seem to be enjoying the atmosphere of the nightclub. Oliver wades through crowd of lavishly dressed guests with Tommy close behind him. He manages to retrieve two glasses of champagne off of a nearby tray and hands one to Tommy. They stop at the end of the main bar and clink their glasses together.

"For Laurel," Oliver says before taking a sip.

Tommy and Oliver both scan the room. The main intent was obviously the fundraiser and helping the Lance family. However, Tommy suggested that perhaps they keep an eye out on the crowd incase Vertigo or his little goons decided to invite themselves to the party. Oliver's eyes search the room and land on Quentin Lance with his daughter by his side.

Oliver sets his glass down at the bar abruptly to meet the pair. "Mr. Lance, I'm glad you and your daughter were able to make it tonight."

Oliver holds out his hand and Quintin gives it a quick shake. "Oliver, there's no need for formalities. I really - I just want to thank you so much for all of this."

"It's the best I can do to help. As you know, Laurel is very important to me, and I'm sure this is just one more step in finding her."

Oliver makes a glance at Sara. He remembers the last time he saw her. She practically threw herself at her, and Oliver feels disgusted that he _almost_ caved to her advance. That memory is in her head and Oliver can see it through Sara's hate filled gaze. His presence and that memory must be the most difficult thing in the world for her.

He's going to be respectful, and he's going to do his best to console her without infringing on Sara's pride. "Sara Lance - it's been five years since I last saw you."

"Yeah," her voice is strained and her eyes avert from his purposely.

"Sara, I want you to know that I loved your sister more than any woman in my life."

"Oh - you loved her _so_ much, but you cheated on her time and again," Sara's lips are laced with venom. "This is just one big cover Oliver Queen, and we both know it."

" _Sara_ stop," Quentin scolds.

"Whatever," Sara says as her eyes roll.

Dismissively, Sara turns on her heel and walks away with her back turned to Oliver. Oliver lowers his eyes to the floor and lets out a deep sigh. He's at a complete loss for words, and he's not sure what left he has to say to Quentin.

"Laurel might not even be alive anymore," Quentin's voice cracks as he speaks. "I don't think Sara has faith she'll ever see her sister again."

"I have faith," Oliver says with utmost confidence. "Laurel Lance is alive. We both know my relationship with your daughter was not without hard times, but I will do what I can to find her."

Quentin grim look shifts into a small smile. "Thank you again, Oliver. This means so much to myself and my family."

"Your welcome," Oliver replies. "If you and your daughter need anything, I'm only a call away."

"Duly noted," Quentin said. "Excuse me. I need to go find Sara."

"Of course," Oliver replies.

Oliver places his hands in his pockets as he watches Quentin Lance shift through the crowds. Tommy joins Oliver at his side and follows his line of sight to the Lance family. They appear to be arguing, and Oliver lets out a deep groan.

"Mrs. Lance didn't come?" Tommy notes.

"No," Oliver replies. "She wouldn't take any of my calls."

"This is going to much more difficult than we originally assumed," Tommy notes.

"That it is," Oliver voice is strained and frustrated as he speaks.

"Are you ready to make your big speech?" Tommy says.

"Not exactly," Oliver replies. "But, I'll do my best. I just hope she's out there somewhere watching this."

* * *

She's always waiting for him to leave, because she can go to the television. It's her new obsession - _her life line_ \- to follow Oliver's story in every painstaking detail. Laurel sifts through channels for more news on Oliver. There is a beautiful dark skinned woman holding a microphone on CNN. The bottom of the screen reads _Surprise Queen Charity Event_.

"It's opening night at _Verdant_ in Starling City, and Oliver Queen kicks off the first night with a noble charity event. A tragic event has befallen a police lieutenant and his daughter, and Oliver Queen has addressed this tragedy by throwing a charity event tonight. We are live at the _Verdant_ as Oliver Queen says a few kind words for a family that needs so much."

It's the first time she's smiled in months, but she cannot help herself. Tears are brimming her eyes as she sees Oliver with a microphone in hand. His hair is cut and clean and he's dressed in a nice black suit. He looks so much more grown up now.

"Thank you all for taking the time to come out tonight. I want you all to know that Dinah Laurel Lance was someone very important. The Lance Family have always been considered friends of mine, and she was the first person I wanted to see when I came home. To hear this news is devastating to me. Tonight - _Starling City_ \- I ask for your help. If anyone has any information on the whereabouts of Dinah Laurel Lance, I _beg_ you to contact the authorities. We have an anonymous hotline that you may also contact if you feel that your safety may be jeopardized. You can visit our website and don't forget to trend the hashtag FindLaurelLance on Twitter. Anything - even the smallest of leads - can help us find Laurel and put this Count Vertigo to justice. "

Tears are flowing freely down her face as Oliver brings her father and sister to the stage. Then, she notices her mother isn't present, and her heart drops. _Why?_ Several theories run through her mind, and it's killing her to be so distant that she can't even place where her mother is. She _should_ be there. She should be with her father and Sara.

Laurel hears the front door crack open and quickly shuts off the television set. Count Vertigo will know of Oliver's fundraising event in time, and he will react. Her heart feels as if it's being crushed. She fears what he might do to retaliate, and she fears that Oliver has just drawn a target on his back.

* * *

It's disrespectful and disgusting. The nerve that one can have, but here Oliver stands watching a man place _vertigo_ into a woman's hand. _A spy, maybe?_ It wouldn't be out of the ordinary, and it's not like Count Vertigo would see Oliver Queen as a threat. He hasn't met the real _Oliver Queen_ yet.

Oliver catches his bodyguard, John Diggle, out of the corner of his eyes. He carefully slips into the crowd to dodge his bodyguard's watchful eye and meet Tommy by the bar. Oliver gestures discreetly at the Vertigo dealer in the crowd.

"That man is trading _vertigo_ at my club," Oliver eyes narrow as his jaw clenches in anger.

Tommy is reaching for his radio. "I'll notify security."

"Wait," Oliver says. "I'll keep my eyes on him."

"Oliver…" Tommy's voice warns. "Think about this."

"I already have, Tommy," Oliver replies. "And, I know what I'm doing."

The man catches Oliver glances at him and shifts through the crowds to the exit. Oliver glances to a nearby emergency exit. He makes his way towards the emergency door and dials the code on the side panel to disengage the alarm. He slips through the exit and quickly darts to a dufflebag he stashed in the back of his club. He quickly changes into his gear and slings his quiver over his shoulder. Oliver grips his bow tightly in his left hand, and suddenly, he can feel a rush of adrenaline run through him.

Oliver catches the man come out from the front doors of his club. _It's time_. The man is walking at a hurried pace, and Oliver pursues the man down an alleyway. The man looks over his shoulder, and then, breaks into a sprint. Oliver retrieves his first arrow from his quiver. He draws it back against the string of his bow, and he watches as it sails into the man's right leg.

The man screams as he falls hard against the asphalt. The man is making a half hearted attempt at a crawl when Oliver approaches him. The adrenaline is still running through his veins, and all he can see is Laurel Lance. He flips the man over, and draws another arrow against his bow.

"Who the fuck are you?" the man shouts.

"Where is Count Vertigo?" he demands.

"Fuck you!" the man spits.

Oliver releases his arrow into the man's shoulder. "Where is Count Vertigo?"

The screams in agony, but still looks up at him with eyes of defiance. Oliver draws another Arrow. The man's eyes glisten with fear as Oliver points the Arrow directly at his head.

"Okay, okay...look, I don't know. No one knows," he says. "I was sent to Verdant by his men to pollute Oliver Queen's new nightclub with drugs."

"Where are these men you speak of?" Oliver questions.

"They operate at night in the glades. There's this abandoned warehouse - the one near 54th and Thomas."

Oliver releases the arrow into the dealer's head. He doesn't feel an ounce of remorse at his first kill as a vigilante. Starling City is better off without men like him, and this is _justice_ for the city. It's one less criminal off the street, and it means one step closer to finding Laurel Lance. These thoughts make it somehow _okay_ in his blurred morality.

Oliver returns to the duffle bag and changes back into his suit. He smoothes out the wrinkles, and groans as he sees his _babysitter_ walking towards him.

"Where the hell were you?" John Diggle questions.

"Getting some air," Oliver flashes a smile.

"I'm trying to do a job here, Mr. Queen, and you are making it difficult."

"I'm not forcing you to be here, Diggle."

Diggle lips purse into a hardline as he stares down Oliver Queen. This man can become a problem later on if he wants to continue his work as a vigilante. Several ideas run through his head, but Oliver cannot decide what course of action to take yet. He'll sleep on it. John Diggle is a small problem, and right now, his only priority is Laurel Lance. Forcing for a resignation from his mother's hired guard is only a small fraction of importance. That time will come, but first and foremost, he must find Laurel.


	3. The Rescue

_Thank you all for your comments! I'm glad there are still others out there that don't buy into the Olicity garbage and really appreciate Laurel. As for my previous fic "An Archer and a Canary", I really want to continue that one as well. The inspiration isn't really coming to me write now, but I've thought of a few ideas for that one too. I hope that one day I can continue it. You guys are amazing. Thank you for all you kind words._

 **A Caged Bird**

 _The Rescue_

"It's the first batch of vaccinations," Tommy says as he sets down an array of packaged needles. "They'll be officially released in two weeks, but thanks to my father, I was able to get these before they're available to the public."

Oliver glances down at the counter at five packaged needles. "These will prevent _V_ from messing with my brain?"

"Yeah," Tommy says. "Pretty sick, huh? The government was worried what might happen if a terrorist organization decided to weaponize this drug. So, inventing a vaccine was a high priority. Thankful my dad has a few friends in high places."

Oliver glances down at the needles. It's tragic, really. The only reason this vaccine exists is because rich men in power fear for their own security. How many women were victims of this drug while men in power turned a blind eye for months? It reminds him of his mission, and why this city needs change.

"It's sick," Oliver says. "How fucked up do you have to be that you'd want to force someone to obey you?"

"I mean, it's a twisted society we live in," Tommy replies. "How many people would stay honest if they thought they could control the people around them?"

Oliver does not answer Tommy's question. He stares down at the packaged needles on his marble countertop. Laurel's disappearance might have been as easy as drugging her, and Oliver fears what Count Vertigo might actually be capable of. Oliver expects nothing but the worst from a man that went out of his way to invent a mind control drug.

 _Hang in there, Laurel. I'll be there soon._

...

It's midnight when Oliver manages to slip away from Diggle's watchful eye. He makes his way to the glades where the warehouse is located. There are men unloading a semi - probably full of Count Vertigo's _product_. Oliver's anger boils as he scans the men. Their leader must be inside the building.

He perches himself in a perfect position and fires arrows at the men. They all scatter, searching for the source behind the sudden attack. One by one, the men fall to the ground until none are left standing. Oliver leaps down from his higher position and makes his way towards the warehouse.

Oliver scans the entrance. It's an obvious point of entry, and at any moment, his presence will be noted. He scans a the building to see a broken window. It will give him higher ground and conceal him from his enemies. Oliver aims his grappler at the window and fires a clean shot. He climbs up to the window, and pulls himself inside the building.

Quietly he sets his foot on the grated rafters. The dim lighting in the warehouse reveals four men around a dimly lit table. There's one balding man in a suit that appears to be their leader. Oliver grips his bow tightly and fires three arrows one by one into the other men surrounding the table.

The man in the suit draws a pistol and opens fire. There's a flicker of adrenaline when Oliver hears a bullet rush by him. It was close - almost too close. He rushes through the rafters till he reaches a vantage point to open fire on his assailant. He draws another arrow and fires. It barely misses. The man opens fire at him again, and quickly Oliver rushes through the rafters to avoid the array of bullets flying in his direction.

Oliver draws another arrow and sends it straight into the shoulder of his attacker. The man's pistol falls to the floor, and Oliver rushes over to a nearby ladder. He climbs down and approaches the man who is crawling towards his gun. Oliver kicks the pistol away and stomps on the man's hands.

"Where is Dinah Laurel Lance?"

The man laughs sardonically. "Even if I knew, I wouldn't tell you. My loyalty is to my superior."

Oliver grabs another arrow from his quiver. He's about to put that loyalty to the test. He sends the arrow through the back of the man's leg. The balding man lets out a loud scream.

"Where is Dinah Laurel Lance?"

"Jesus man, fuck this!" Oliver hears one of the balding man's goons scream. "I ain't dying for this shit! She's at one of our boss's properties. Last time I saw her, she seemed happy to be there. The dude's got a lot of money. She dated that Queen guy. Maybe she's into that sugar baby kind of thing."

It the drug. Oliver knows it's the drug. Laurel would never up and abandoned her family without a word under any circumstances. The suggestion that Laurel would willing be in a domestic relationship with such a despicable human being enrages him. He almost wants to shoot the man just for assuming that Laurel _is_ happy being Count Vertigo's puppet.

He sends an Arrow through the balding man's head and steps towards his new informant. "Give me the address, and I'll let you live."

…

It's clever - hiding in plain sight. All this time, Laurel has been hauled up in a penthouse apartment. No one would have expected it. Oliver peers through his binoculars. She's sitting on the couch in front of a flat screen television no doubt under the influence of Vertigo's sick drug. Oliver imagines Vertigo's hands on her - making horrific commands - tearing her down through the use of a sick drug.

He _knows_ what he did to her. There's no concrete evidence, but Oliver knows that he violated her. He can see it play out in his head. Vertigo orders her around to fulfill his every sick desire and forces her to put a smile on her face. He plays house with her, makes her tell him what he wants to hear, makes her do unspeakable acts...

 _I'm going to kill him._

He's going to bring Count Vertigo to his knees, and when he's done, that man will wish for his own death.

Oliver lowers his binoculars and grabs his grappling hook. The hook connects above the penthouse apartment. _She's so close_. He grips the rope in his hand and swings down toward the penthouse. His feet crash through the glass as he lands in a crouched position. He rises to his feet to see a startled Laurel on the couch. Her green eyes are wide as she gazes up on him.

He's forgotten how beautiful she really is - _the prettiest girl in the whole damn world_. She's here right before his eyes, and he'll do everything in his power to keep her safe for the rest of her life.

"Dinah Laurel Lance, I'm here to take you home."

"I don't want to go home," she says. "I want to be here."

Her voice sounds so _dead_. It's clear that she's been drugged. He can see it in her green eyes that she wants nothing more than to leave. Oliver retrieves a packaged syringe from his belt. Her eyes widen in panic as he unwraps the needle.

"It's a vaccine," Oliver instructs. "It will reverse the effects of the drug."

She backing away from him until her back is against the armrest of sofa. Vertigo must have ordered her to resist any rescue attempts. He approaches her and attempts to take her wrist in his hand.

"Don't touch me!" she hisses. "I told you I _want_ to be here. I am _happy_ here."

In a half effort to escape, she slips underneath him and falls face first onto the carpet. It's twisted what this drug has done to her brain. He hates pulling her against him. He hates forcefully grabbing her arm and jamming the needle into the vein of her arm. He hates hear her scream against him and try to escape his hold.

But, she finally softens in his arms. Her breath seems to steady, and she's no longer fighting against him. She starts to sob, and finally speaks " _oh my god...oh my god"._

"He forced me...he made me…" her voice drifts away as she breaks down into tears.

"You were under the influence of a drug," Oliver says. "None of this was your fault."

"I…" she says. "My dad, my mom...my sister…they must have been so worried. They must have thought…"

She dissolves into tears and he shushes her. "You're safe now, pretty bird."

Oliver lifts her off the floor and into his arms. He could wait for Count Vertigo. He can tears that man to pieces. But, he won't. She is his priority right now, and he'll forgo killing that son of a bitch if it means getting her home.

"Who are you?" her voice is soft and groggy from the vaccine.

"I'm what this city needs."

Laurel's head falls against his shoulder, and he can see the hazy look in her eyes. The vaccine is fighting the drug within her. She's free now from Vertigo's control. He'll take her home, and she can go back to her family. She can be Dinah Laurel Lance again.

…

When Laurel wakes, her head is resting against a pillow. She feels covers being drawn over her. She can vaguely hear the sound of a feminine voice. It takes her a moment to recognize it, but when she does her heart leaps. It's Sara.

"Thank you," Sara says. "I don't know who you are, but thank you."

Her hooded savior does not respond. The lights flicker off abruptly, and that's when her foggy vision begins to clear. Laurel sits up and scans the room. It's her old apartment. She thought that it might have been cleared out by now, but everything seems to be the same.

"Laurel," Sara's voice cracks.

"Sara…"

Sara throws her arms around her. Laurel draws her as close as she possibly can, and that is when she falls apart. Tears are running freely down her cheeks, and she's sobbing uncontrollably. She's not sure what to do, or what to say, but she knows all she wants is her sister to be close to her.

It feels like forever, but finally Sara pulls away. "I thought you were dead. What happened? Did he…"

"Yes," Laurel admits. "He made me with that drug."

"Oh my god," Sara's voice is so thin as she speak. "We need to call dad...we need to call the police. Mom...I need to call mom."

"Okay - okay - just stay with me for a minute. I can't just yet. Just give me a few moments."

"Okay…" Sara agrees. "Alright…"

Laurel lets her head fall on her sister's lap. Her head is clearing, and the drug no longer dictates her every thought. _What do I do?_ She doesn't even know where to start.


	4. Breakdown

_This chapter was...very difficult to write - the last part especially. Thank you all for your reviews. I hope you enjoy the next installment. Also, yes, Laurel will have her journey to becoming the Black Canary. I'm very excited to write about this, because the show did not do her journey justice at all._

 **A Caged Bird**

 _Breakdown_

It's been all over the news for the past few days. It's overwhelming and sends her back to when she first started dating Oliver. But, this isn't some petty romance tabloid. It's so much more personal, and all Laurel wants is just to forget. It was hard enough going to that police station and divulging each excruciating detail of her kidnapping. It's even harder that at first they questioned the honesty of her story when she explained how she was got home.

" _Why didn't your sister call the police immediately?"_

" _Are you sure there's something you're not telling us?"_

 _Fuck them_. Laurel collapses into the seat next to Sara on her sofa. She's not sure how to cope with everything, but having Sara live with her at this point in time seems like an easy start. Sara's flipping through the channels and then she stops. It's a news channel. Laurel's insides twists into knots. She's not ready to hear another repeat of her " _heartbreaking story"_ on the news. She wants it to go away, and she just wants to just pretend it never happened.

" _Last night, several men were found dead by bow and arrow. Police were on the scene to see a hooded man fleeing the scene…_ "

"Turn it up!" Laurel hisses.

Sara points the remote at the T.V. to raise the volume. " _The motive for these killings are unclear, but it is presumed they are connected with the 40 million dollars transferred from Adam Hunt's accounts."_

 _Adam Hunt_ \- Laurel is familiar with his name. She had tried to prosecute him a month before her disappearance, but unfortunately the judge threw her entire case against him out of court. It was the same judge that was assigned to prosecuting many of Vertigo's associates. She's shaking with anger. Adam Hunt has ties with Vertigo, and so does Judge Grell. Her masked savior must be privy to all of this information and more.

Her and Sara exchange glances before Laurel says, "Adam Hunt was someone I tried to prosecute. A judge threw my case out of court. It was the same judge that I worked with on the Vertigo trials."

"Oh my god, Laurel…" Sara says and turns the television up a notch more. "It's dad."

" _Detective Lance, there are reports about the masked vigilante was responsible for rescuing your daughter,"_ a blonde reporter asks. " _Do you believe that these incidences are connected?_ "

" _The information on my daughter's case is not yet public information. My daughter was a victim of a drug trafficker -_ _ **a rapist**_ _. I don't know what kind of ratings stunt you're trying to pull by connecting these incidences, but I refuse to answer any more questions."_

The camera pans back to the news station, and Laurel can't even think anymore. She shakily takes her mug of steaming coffee from her coffee table. She sips it and wraps her hands around the mug to warm the chill running down her spine.

"All of this is connected," Sara finally says. "Adam Hunt has ties with Count Vertigo."

"There's prosecutors that get paid to throw a case," Laurel says. "This was my punishment for not rolling over. I should have just…"

"No, _fuck that_ ," Sara says. "None of this - none of it was your fault. You were doing your _job_! It's their fault...Adam Hunt, Count Vertigo, the judge, and anyone else that was trying to cover up everyone else's dirty shit in this city."

"He knows who's responsible," Laurel says.

"Who?" Sara asks.

"You know…"

" _Oh_ ," Sara says.

"If only I knew who he was," she says. "He could tell me…"

"What would we be able to do if we knew though? It sounds like everyone's being paid off to protect these people."

"They're never going to let me go back to work," Laurel says. "They'll use my kidnapping as an excuse to see me psychologically unfit to work."

"We'll find a way around it," Sara insists. "Dad should know people in the courts that can help. Besides, we have Oliver's charity to hold us over for awhile."

 _Oliver_ …

Her dad said that he had called about her. Laurel had meant to call him back, but it's all just been _too_ much. She tells herself she'll be ready soon, but there's a part of her that just _can't_. She fears that she may never have the courage to speak with him again.

…

" _In other news, vaccinations for V will be delayed temporarily. A rare side effect has been documented within two of the patients during the trial period. These effects are uncommon in patients, and scientists believe an improved vaccine will be out within a month_."

Oliver switches off the television set and turns to Tommy. "We took those vaccinations. I gave them to my mom and my sister."

 _And Laurel..._

"The side effects are rare," Tommy reassures. "None of them are life threatening. My dad was telling me one patient could change her eye color at will. It's weird, but it won't kill us. Chances are we will be left unaffected, anyways."

"You know, I'm damn tired of hearing everything on the news these days. It's about my reappearance. These vaccines going wrong," he feels a surge of rage before he says, "Those fucking idiots on Fox News accusing Laurel of lying about what happened to her."

There's an awkward pause before Tommy asks, "How's she doing?"

"I talked to her dad," he replies. "He says she's having a hard time. I thought about maybe trying to visit her sometime."

"You should," Tommy says. "I'm sure she could really use a friend right now."

"I know I should, but when?" Oliver says. "When is the right time...she's grieving. Seeing me after all these years...it might just make it worse.

"I think you should go right now."

Oliver raises his eyebrow and glances over at Tommy. "Right now?"

"The longer you wait, the harder it's going to be for both of you," Tommy says.

Oliver leans back in his recliner and releases a big sigh. All this time has passed. She didn't even get a formal breakup. She woke up one day to a missing boyfriend. How long did she wait for him to come back? When was the day she finally gave up hope? Then, after going through all of that, she's kidnapped by some sick psycho. Oliver laces his hands together. The night he rescued her is still burned in the back of her mind. The look in her eyes, her tears - she must still be suffering so much.

"You should go. I'll take you."

Oliver looks over his shoulder to see John Diggle entering the room. It's agitating that this man is constantly invading his privacy, but he lets his frustration subside for a moment. The man means well, and perhaps he has some worthwhile advice.

"I have suffered the loss of someone I will never see again," Diggle says. "Dinah Laurel Lance was assumed to be dead for months, Mr. Queen. You're fortunate to have the opportunity to have her back in your life."

Oliver shifts in his seat uncomfortably. It's going to be hard _especially_ for Laurel. He was a selfish boy when he left on the Queen's Gambit, but he cannot be even a fraction of that person today. Oliver rises from his seat and glances over to Diggle.

"Alright," he says. "We'll go."

Diggle gives him a small encouraging nod. Perhaps they started off on the wrong foot. Avoiding John Diggle for his nighttime activities will be difficult, but he's less resistant to the idea of having him around.

…

It's hard being alone _especially_ at night. Laurel's not sure why she convinced herself she needed space. It seemed like such a good idea, and she thought it might help her _move on_. And now, she's just trapped with all these thoughts in her head. Her hand is tightly gripped to her phone, and she's trying to talk herself into calling Sara.

 _Knock! Knock!_

Laurel flinches in her seat. Her entire body seems to go numb and slowly she places the phone on her coffee table. She slowly rises from where she sits, and each step towards her door is agonizing. _It's him_. Vertigo's here to take her back to that hell. Her heart rate increases as she gets closer to the door. She peeks through the peephole, and her tensions dissipate. It's _Oliver_.

Laurel presses her left hand against the door and breathes. Her energy feels split in two. There's a part of her that really just wants to see him again, but there's this darker part that wants to push her far away from her. She almost doesn't even answer the door, but the feeling of being alone is too much for her to take.

Laurel's hands tremble as she unlatches the chain on her door. She hesitates as her hand touches the brass knob. It takes her a few more moments to turn the knob and pull the door open. And, there he stands with a bouquet of white roses. His tries to smile, and she does her best to attempt a smile herself.

"Oliver…"

"Laurel…"

Time feels so non-existent. It's like they've fallen into some sort of limbo. It almost as if nothing even exists but the both of them.

Laurel's lips part. She's supposed to say something - anything - but she just can't. Oliver offers her the bouquet of flowers. Their fingers brush graze each other, and it sends a soft shiver through her. Her eyes flicker up to his as she draws the flowers close to her. She's caught between the thousand different questions and words that are floating in her head.

"Is it okay if I come in?"

Laurel can only muster a small, tight nod. A chill runs down her spine as he crosses the threshold of her apartment. He closes the door behind him, and she feels a shiver run through her. It's doesn't feel real, but he's here in front of her.

It takes her a moment, but she returns to her living room without a word. Laurel sets the roses on the coffee table. She stares at them. They're absolutely beautiful, but somehow, it just pains her to even look at them. Her body starts to tremble again. There's this emotional tug-of-war raging within her, and she's only a sliver away from falling apart.

Laurel shields her eyes with her right hand and says, "I'm sorry…"

"You don't need to be sorry for anything."

Oliver takes a few steps towards her. Laurel lowers hand from her eyes and forces herself to look into his eyes. And, all at once, she falls apart. She's sobbing uncontrollably as her hands clutch desperately to Oliver's button down shirt. Her head is rested against him, and his arms are around her.

She's glad he doesn't condescendingly shush her or tell her it's _okay_. She's so grateful for that, because she's just tired of hearing how _okay_ it is now from people. It never will be _okay_. He's just _there_ , and that's what she really needs - someone to lean on.

"I'm sorry…" she can barely speak between her sobs, but she manages. "I just - I must look like a mess. I'm so weak, and I'm so…"

"No, Laurel, you're not weak. I can't even begin to imagine what you've been through, and all I know is that right now, you are the strongest person I know."

 _No, I'm not_. She almost says it outloud, but she doesn't. _If I were stronger...if I were smarter, none of this would have happen._ It's this thought that she can't shake. Her sister tries to convince her, but she just doesn't believe it. If she hadn't pushed so hard at work, if she had looked before she opened the door that night, if she would have done so many things differently...nothing would have happened. _It's all my fault._

She breaks down into another fit of sobs. "You know, my mom, she ran off after it all happen. Those three months - all that time - I thought she was looking for me. But no, she just jumped into her car and disappeared into the night."

"I'm sorry…"

"What for? It's not your fault," she says. " _She left_. My own mother abandoned my family, and now she's off doing god knows what in some other state. Is she just too damn embarrassed? Or maybe she just doesn't give a shit at all."

"You, your dad, and Sara deserve better."

His are true, and they should comfort her. But no, they make her anger. She feels all her rage tighten within her, and all she wants to do is scream. She can't though. Her jaw clenches as she says, "I don't even care if she comes back at all."

Laurel waits for him to scold her. She waits to hear _you don't mean that_ or _you're just upset right now_. He doesn't say anything. He just strokes her hair and holds her.

Oliver withdraws from her and takes both her hands is his. He's looking down at her with glossy eyes, and it takes everything in her not to break down again.

"Could you stay with me?" she says. "I'm going to text, Sara. But, could you stay here until she gets back? It won't be long."

"Laurel, I will stay here as long as you need me."

She can't smile, but her heart sparks for just a moment. "Thank you, Oliver."


	5. The Dollmaker

_Hi everyone! I'm sorry this chapter took so long for me to post. It's a little bit longer than the last few, and I had to do a few rewrites. There are some endnotes after this chapter that explain a lot of my choices with this chapter and the direction I want to go with this. Thank you all again for your reviews. Hearing all your nice words makes my day._

 **A Caged Bird**

 _The Dollmaker_

"Look," Sara holds out her phone. "He's on the news again."

Laurel takes Sara's phone in her hands. There's a news article about the masked vigilante. Another crime boss has apparently been slain by bow and arrow. Her heart speeds up, and Laurel devours each bit of information in the article. She notes to bookmark the page on her computer when she gets home along with all the other webpages upon webpages she has bookmarked on her laptop.

"I wonder what kind of person he is," Laurel says.

Pretty bird…

The two words have been burned into her memory for the last two weeks. It's odd how fixated she is on the memory of their one encounter. It's not likely that she'll ever see him again, and that thought is oddly frustrating. She just wants to know him.

Laurel scrolls down Sara's phone and sees a link - Dollmaker Strikes Again, Body Count is Now 18. She opens the link and scrolls through. The information sends a rush of anxiety through her. The walls of the coffee shop feel as if they are closing in on her. For a moment - she's there in Vertigo's penthouse again.

Laurel places Sara's phone onto the table and pushes it towards her. She watches as Sara's face contorts into several horrified expressions. Sara glances over at the table at her and says, "Dad's obsessed with this guy."

Laurel's eyebrows raise as she asks, "What do you mean?"

"It was two months after, uh, well…" she pauses. "He's been obsessed with this case. I think - uh- it was his way of coping with what happened to you."

Laurel thinks of the gory detailed deaths of countless young women in the article. "To die like that must be the worst thing in the world."

She sips her coffee. This was supposed to be a happy girl's day out with her sister, and it's not exactly working out the way she planned. It's like everything is a countless reminder to what happened to her.

"Hey, Laurel, are you okay?"

"Yeah," she says. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Sara's eyes are soft with concern, and Laurel can see that she doesn't exactly buy her last line. Laurel tries her best to fake a smile. She's sure it's not very convincing, but it's all that she can manage.

"You told me there was this skin cream you wanted to try," Laurel says.

"Yeah, all of my old sorority sisters rave about it," Sara says with a laugh. "You know, I kind of wish I would have tried harder in college. Maybe I would have graduated like you did."

"Don't be hard on yourself, Sara. I'm sure you'll find your calling somedays. And besides, you can always go back."

"Nah, I'm not really feeling it," Sara changes the subject. "Anyways, I'm ready to get out of this place."

"Yeah me too," Laurel agrees.

…

Laurel's sifting through all the products in the beauty store. She's always put herself together well, but lately she's lost any concern for her personal appearance. There's just a part of her that feels drained, and she can't even invest time in the small things she used to enjoy.

Sara's sifting through the shelves until she finds the skin cream she's looking for. They go to the register to pay, and Laurel sifts through her purse for her wallet. It's buried under an array of miscellaneous items and old receipts. She used to be so organized, but now everything around her is a mess. Laurel pulls out her keys and phone and sets on the counter as she continues to sift through her purse.

"It's okay I got it," Sara says.

Sara hands the woman her debit card and Laurel just breathes. All she really wants to do is go home and hide from the world. Sara and the cashier exchange their "thank yous", and Laurel is just so glad to finally get home. There's this nagging part in her head that just really wants to go to her laptop and search the internet for more information on the Hood. There are several theories floating around. Most of them sound like complete conspiracy theory bullshit, but she's just so enthralled with everything about the mysterious vigilante that she can't help but read.

They exit the store and walk towards Laurel's silver sedan. She searches her purse for her keys. She notices her phone is missing, and curses to herself. She must have left it at the counter.

"Crap!" Laurel says. "I left my phone inside."

"Okay, I'll just wait inside the car."

Laurel tosses her keys to Sara and rushes back into the store. The cashier smiles at her and holds out her iPhone. "Your phone, miss."

"Thank you," Laurel says.

Laurel exits the store. She gasps when she glances at her car. There's a middle aged man in the driver seat. There's a split second where the man's eyes meet hers. He smiles the most chilling smile she's ever seen before he drives off in her car.

Laurel races after her car. She means to scream stop, but emits a high pitch scream instead. The glass from the back of her car seems to shatter, and Laurel lungs burn as she tries to pursue the car on foot.

The car rounds the corner into traffic, and Laurel falls to her knees. Sara is gone. She shouldn't have left her alone. Something horrible is about to happen to her sister, and it's all her fault.

The glass - it broke at the sound of her scream. Laurel touches her fingers to her lips. Did she make it break? No, that isn't possible.

Laurel's head begins to clear as she comes to terms with the reality of what had just occurred. Her shaking hand retrieves her phone from her purse. She searches through her contacts and scrolls to dad. She presses the phone to her ear and waits for him to pick up.

"Dad," she sobs.

"Laurel, what's wrong?"

"Dad - someone took Sara. It's Vertigo. He's watching me."

"Where are you?" her father's voice is a blend of anger and worry.

"We were shopping at this beauty shop," Laurel says. "It's downtown. It's called May's Beauty Supply."

"It wasn't Vertigo," her father's voice becomes thin with horror. "Look, go inside the store where people can see you. I'll be there as soon as I can."

…

Oliver feels his phone vibrate in his back pocket. He retrieves the phone from his pocket and answers it the minute he sees Laurel's name across the screen.

"Hey…"

She's crying.

"Laurel," he tries his best to be gentle. "What's wrong?"

"It's my sister."

Oliver has been in Laurel's life long enough to know that Laurel and Sara don't always see eye to eye. This though - it doesn't sound a typical Lance sibling tiff.

"What's going on?"

"She's gone Oliver," he can hear her sob from the other line and Oliver's heart drops. "My dad says it isn't Vertigo. He says it's some serial killer. My dad...he says he cuts girls apart and makes them into dolls. Oliver, I'm so scared. He's going to murder Sara. My sister is going to be dead."

"Laurel, where are you? I'm driving over."

"I'm - Oliver, I'm still at the scene of the crime," she says. "I don't want to inconvenience you.

"It doesn't matter," he says. "Where are you?"

There's a pause before she finally says, "I'm at May's Beauty Supply downtown."

…

It doesn't take long for Oliver to dodge his eavesdropping sister's questions and ghost is bodyguard. He's flying down the road on his a motorcycle at a speed that might get him arrested. He sees flashing lights and yellow tape and slows his bike to the curb. He pulls off his helmet and sets on his bike handle.

Laurel sees him and she's rushing over to him. She throws her arms around him, and he responds by wrapping his arms around her waist. She's not crying, but he can practically feel the grief coming off her skin.

"Oliver?"

Oliver looks over Laurel to see her father walking towards them. There a distant look in his eyes, and his hands are tucked tightly in his pockets. Oliver releases his hold on Laurel, and the pair pull away from each other.

"Laurel called me," he says. "Is it...Vertigo?"

The name feels as if it's burning his tongue, and Oliver knows how inappropriate it is to ask questions. But, it's the only way he'll find Sara. He sees Quentin Lance's eyes shift away from his as all the pain in the world crosses his eyes.

"I don't think so," Quentin finally responds. "There's this person called the Doll Maker…"

Laurel breathes as she crosses his arms. He can see how painful this is for the both of them. He won't question them anymore. All he needs is a name. The rest he'll piece together on his own.

Oliver pretends to check his phone as if he's received a text message. He hates how cold this might come off, and he knows that Laurel needs a shoulder to lean on more than ever. But, time is of the essence, and he just hopes she'll forgive him for his sudden exit.

"Laurel…" he pauses and tries his best to be polite. "There's something going on at work. I hate to do this…"

Her eyes shift to her feet and he can see her fake a smile. "It's okay if you have to go. It's just...I'm glad you could be here."

He sees the pain in her eyes, and he embraces her once more before he leaves. "I have faith, Laurel. Your dad is going to find Sara."

"How can you be sure?" she asks.

"I just have to be, because I don't want to believe the alternative."

...

Oliver sifts through the crowd of his club and reaches the door to the club's basement. It's a temporary base of operations for his life as a vigilante. It's not much, but he hopes in the future he'll be able to make more of it than stolen police equipment and a salmon ladder.

Oliver switches on the radio equipment. He can hear Quentin's voice through the static. "I'm issuing an ATL on a silver 2012 Ford Taurus. The back window is broken. The man driving the vehicle is suspected to be armed and dangerous. He has a hostage with him. Approach the suspect with caution."

Oliver places his hands on the desk and breathes. With most of the men on his list, there are connections and names. The Dollmaker is an alias of a serial killer that works alone. Oliver doesn't know where to begin.

He opens his laptop and type "The Dollmaker Killings" into google. There's photos of several of the victim's lifeless bodies dressed like porcelain dolls. He sees Sara's body dressed like a china doll in his mind and shivers. Most of the disappearance happen outside of beauty stores, and the bodies often reemerge within the next two days. Sara doesn't have much time left.

He slams his fist on the counter. If Quentin can't even find this man over months of investigating, how can he expect to find Sara in a night? The kidnapping isn't personal, and no one has any word on where this man might be.

"Damn it," Oliver hisses.

"Lance, we may have found your daughter's car…"

The news from the radio snaps Oliver from his thoughts. He turns the dial up on the radio and listens closely.

"It's in the glades," he says. "On Market Street and 50th street. It's abandoned."

"I'll be right there. I've been tracking this son of a bitch for months. If anyone is going to find him, it's me!"

It all clicks. It might actually be personal. Sara and Laurel have been on the news. If Quentin Lance is the one that's tracking this monster, it might be some sort of egotistical taunt to get under Quentin's skin. If Quentin knows this man better than anyone else, he's the only one that can help Oliver find Sara.

It's a hard line to cross, because there is already suspicion that Lance might be working with the hood after Laurel's rescue. It could easily further implicate Lance in aiding a criminal, but for Sara, it's worth the risk.

…

Quentin's mind is racing as he searches Laurel's car for anything that might lead him to the Dollmaker. He growls angrily as and slams his hand against the car roof. He knows this killer's time frame, and when the sun comes up, he fears that Sara's body might be found in a parking garage or a park.

None of this is fair. He just got Laurel back, and now he's lost Sara. God has a cruel sense of humor.

He walks back to his car and he notices a small post it. Meet me behind the building. There's a small arrow symbol drawn on the post it in green ink. Quentin's heart skips a beat as a flicker of hope rushes through his veins. He waits till the rest of the officers are distracted and slips away from the seen. Quentin breaks out into a run as he moves to the back of the building. He rounds the corner and his eyes scan for any sign of The Hood.

"If you're here, show yourself!" Quentin calls.

He waits for an answer, but there's nothing. His heart drops as he feels his last line to finding Sara slipping from his grasp. He lets out a defeated sigh and turns to go back to the crime scene. And, there the Hood stands directly in his path.

"Please tell me you know where she is," Quentin says without even a moment of hesitation.

"I don't, but we might be able to work together."

"How?"

"This incident is connected, Lance. He knows you're investigating him. It's a taunt."

"How do you know that?" Quentin asks.

"In my experience, it's rare that there is a coincidence. Tell me…were there ever any heinous criminals you've captured near this area or is this all a personal attack over your investigation of his crimes alone."

Quentin searches his mind for any specific arrests he's made close to the crime scene. There's been many muggers and vandals he's arrested in the area, but only one case sticks out. It was years ago before he was promoted as a detective. It was all sheer luck that he stumbled upon this deli after watching a young teenager break in. He remembers that poor girl screaming. Quentin had dropped arresting the teenager immediately after walking into one of the most horrific crimes he's ever seen.

"There was this deli owned by a man named Clint Mathis," Quentin says. "God, I was only twenty at the time. It was my first big arrest. It opened a lot of doors for me in the department, but Jesus, the night is one of my worst memories."

Quentin remembers the bodies hanging from meat hooks. He remembers the smell, fighting back the urge to vomit - that girl strapped to a table and the sound of a chainsaw. He can still feel the cool metal of his gun, he remembers the sound of the gunshot firing, and the sight of Mathis's blood spraying from the fatal headshot wound he inflicted.

Then, the worst part. There was a child - Mathis's son. The boy cried as he clanged to his father's body. He still remembers the boy's name - Barton Mathis.

"There was a case of a serial murderer…" Quentin pauses to swallow the nervous lump in his throat. "A cannibal in the glades. It was all luck that I found him. It was the first time I had to use lethal force. Clint Mathis is dead now, but he had a son named Barton."

"My guess is this Dollmaker is Mathis's son."

"Oh god…" Quentin says.

"There is still time to save your daughter, Lance. He is likely to be operating from his father's former deli."

Quentin does not waste another second. He doesn't even spare a thank you to the masked vigilante. He breaks out into a run till he reaches his car. He pulls the door open and jams the key into the ignition. He sets his sirens on and tears off down the road.

…

It takes a quick search on his phone to find the location of the deli Quentin spoke of. Oliver approaches the location and a chill runs through his spine. He knows Sara is within the boarded up building, and he's hoping that the girl is still alive.

Lance's car is on the scene and Oliver imagines this place will be swarming with portal cars any second. Oliver pulls an arrow from his quiver as he enters the building.

"Whatever you think I've done, take it out on me!" he hears Quentin shout. "My daughter wasn't even born when I shot your father!"

Oliver sees a dim light pouring out a cracked open door. He goes to the door and kicks it open with the side of his boot. He spots Mathis who is standing in front of a now chained Quentin Lance. Oliver pulls his arrow against his string and sends it toward Mathis. Mathis manages to shift away from the arrow, and Oliver watches as he dives behind the counter that holds a strapped down Sara Lance on top.

"There is nowhere to run, Mathis," Oliver says. "The entire Starling police force will be here within minutes. It's over."

"Lance took everything from me. Do you know what it's like to watch your father die?" Oliver hears him cry from behind the table.

He does know exactly what it feels like, but Oliver refuses to empathize with Mathis. His father is far from perfect, but nothing at all like this sick man's disturbed parent.

"Your father murdered innocent people just like you," Oliver says. "Lance was performing his job duties to serve and protect this city."

"Some would call you a murderer too," Mathis states. "How many have you murdered on your little crusade?"

"Do not compare me to you, Mathis. We are nothing alike."

Oliver draws an arrow against his bow and approaches the table. It happens so suddenly. Mathis emerges from the table with a gun in hand. Oliver releases the arrow without a second thought. It pieces Mathis directly in the heart, and Oliver watches as Mathis's hand touches the shaft of his arrow. There's a gargling choking sound, and then, Mathis hits the floor.

Oliver rushes towards the table and pulls the restraints off of, Sara. She pulls herself off the table, and rushes towards her father without hesitation.

"Dad!"

"Sara!"

The two embrace and Oliver decides it's time to slip away. Within minutes, dozens of cops will be surrounding the building. He takes one last look at the two, and then, makes his exit.

…

Her sister is safe. Her father is safe. And, as far as Laurel knows, she's safe too. There are police officers guarding her apartment, but still, she doesn't feel secure. She hates being alone, but she's completely understanding that all Sara wants is to spend time with her father after almost dying with him today. She thinks of how they managed to survive and it lifts her spirits just a little. It's almost as if she has some guardian angel watching over her in the form of some hooded vigilante.

Laurel's hands tremble as she empties the rest of her bottle of wine into her glass. Her head is swimming from all of the alcohol intake, but she just doesn't seem to care. Laurel raises the glass and guzzles the dry Merlot down within seconds and laments at her now empty bottle. No matter, there's another one in the kitchen. It takes her a moment to steady herself, but she manages.

Her lights die, and her entire body tenses. Her fists clench tightly, and she's ready to see if she can replicate that scream from earlier. Laurel swallows nervously and turns to find her intruder.

It's the Hood.

Laurel places her hand over her heart and breathes a sigh of relief. She glances at him, and she takes a few step closer to him. "Thank you. I don't know who you are, but thank you for protecting my family."

He doesn't respond to her, and she manages a couple of steps closer to him. In her drunken stupor, she almost trips, but he catches her before she falls. "Careful, pretty bird."

Laurel steadies her footing and glances up at him. Her head is spinning from all the alcohol, and she feels as if she is seeing double. He takes her hand in his and places a phone in her hands.

"It's for Detective Lance to contact me," he says. "Give it to him discreetly."

"My sister...the doll maker…is it connected to…" she pauses. "Did Vertigo send him after her?"

"The incidences appear to be unconnected."

Laurel breathes. She's so emotionally shaken from her sister's abduction, and the alcohol isn't exactly helping with any of it. Forcing down her emotions is torture, but somehow she manages.

"Who are you?"

It's a bold statement to ask. Laurel knows that she'll probably never learn the answer to her question, but she has to ask.

"I can't tell you that."

Laurel heaves a sigh. "I know…"

There are so many more questions she wants to ask that she'll never know the answers too. It's frustrating that she'll never know this one person that's impacted her life, and the rest of her life will be riddled with question that will never be answered.

She watches as he walks towards the balcony. He steps out of the open sliding glass door that he must have entered from. She tries to call to him, but she can't. Laurel watches as The Hood drops from her balcony. She rushes to the balcony and grasps the iron railing.

He's gone.

...

 _Endnotes: Hey everyone. So, a few notes on this chapter. This chapter was built to motivate Laurel to become the Black Canary inlater chapters, and eventually will see her regain her agency and personal power. I changed Mathis's character to fit his comic book personal -although it was action Commissioner Gordon that killed his father in the comics. Also I may have used Clint as a name to match with Barton as a little comic book fan in joke for this chapter. I really want a lot of the villains to maintain some of their comic canon characteristics when it fits the plot, because I feel one drawback to Arrow was that the writers didn't actually adhere to what made the comic book characters such strong character._


	6. Shatter

_Thank you all for your positive reviews as well as your patience. This chapter was tough to write, because of all the rough emotions involved here. There are couple of little things that do happen in this chapter that will pave the way to the future of this fic. Also, one of the reviewers said that this has a "Netflix" series feel. That makes me so happy, because I hate the CW soap opera feel that the show has dissolved into. Also, I was aiming for a more gritty feel similar Netflix originals._

 **A Caged Bird**

 _Shatter_

There's a searing pain running through Laurel's head when she wakes up. She sits up as her right hand clutches the side of her throbbing head. Laurel cursed to herself and makes a mental note to buy pain reliever next time she goes on a booze run.

Laurel grabs her cell phone off her nightstand. There's a missed call from Oliver. The memory of his abrupt exit resurfaces. She had felt mild resentment towards him last night. Perhaps she should still hold a grudge, but she just can't. He's the only friend she has right now, and she just cannot let that go.

Laurel redials Oliver's number and places the phone to her ear. He picks up after the first ring. "Laurel, I am sorry about last night. I should have just blown of work…"

"Ollie, it's okay," she says. "Sara's safe now. Did you - uh - hear how she was found?"

There's a short pause before he answers. "Your father texted me saying that she is safe, but he didn't say how they finally found Sara."

"Well, the same vigilante that found me was a part of it," Laurel says. She waits for him to say something, but he doesn't. So, she continues, "I just want to know why he's doing all this."

"I...well...maybe someone's just trying to do what he thinks is right," Oliver says.

The vigilante acts outside of the law. Laurel really should know better than to agree with his methods considering that she spent four years on a criminal justice degree and two years on a master's degree in law. Her job dictates that the vigilante should prosecuted and put in jail for premeditated murder.

But, here she is _idealizing_ him. Laurel scours the Internet for every piece of information she can find on The Hood and reads every possible theory of who he might be. Laurel finds herself excusing his illegal and even fantasizing being a vigilante herself at times.

"Laurel?"

Oliver's voice breaks her away from her thoughts. "Yeah?"

"I was thinking of making up for last night. I'm free this evening if you wanted to meet."

It sounds like an invitation for a date. Laurel is hesitant. There's those lingering feelings she has for him, but there's also this urge to run from those feelings.

"Okay, yeah," Laurel agrees.

"Alright, I'll pick you up at seven."

"Yeah, that sounds good."

Laurel and Oliver say their goodbyes. She sets her phone on her bed and draws her covers close to her. One day she woke up to a missing boyfriend, never got closure, and was forced to live her life without him. He was the first man she'd ever been with and the pain of losing him cut her emotions down in every possible way.

Laurel never actually did move on. Dating became impossible. She'd even gotten so desperate that she went out on a date with her coworker, Adam Donner.

That was a disaster.

The memory of him begging for a second date resurfaces. It was at the end of their first really awful date. She'd had too much to drink, and she still remembers stumbling out of that overpriced restaurant. She remembers Sara picking her up, because she clearly couldn't drive her own car home. She remembers the breakdown she had in the car over Oliver.

The next day at the office was horrible. She remembers the nasty glare gave as Adam Donner delivered a speech about how she rejected a nice guy like himself to wait on her party boy ex-boyfriend. The awful tension between them never left, and till this day, Laurel still dreads seeing him at the office. Adam must be tickled to death that she'll probably never get her job back at CNRI.

It's ironic, because there was truth to Adam Donner's words. Laurel didn't ever give up on Oliver. The first year was the worst, because she'd obsessively check the news for signs of his survival. Her father tried to intervene with her obsessive behavior. It didn't actually work. She just concealed her hope from everyone.

And, now, her greatest wish has manifested into her life. Still, she hesitates. If she never been kidnapped - if she didn't spend the last three months having her mind, body, and soul violated - maybe it would have been easier. She'd probably have thrown herself right back into Oliver's arms.

Laurel's eyes fall on the half empty wine bottle from last night. There's the rational part that tells her to slow down and take a day off from drinking. She should listen, but she doesn't. She pours the red liquid into the glass till its full. She lifts the glass from her nightstand, but hesitates for a moment. Then, she draws the glass to her lips and sips.

…

Laurel finishes curling the last piece of her hair. Her screen of her phone lights up as it vibrates on the marble counter top. Laurel sets her curling iron down and sees Oliver's name across the screen.

She grabs her phone from her counter and says, "Hey."

"Hi," Oliver says. "I'm right outside."

"Okay, I'll be out in a sec."

Laurel lowers her phone and takes a look at her reflection. Perhaps she shouldn't have pick a bright red cocktail dress or put this much effort into her appearance. It looks like she's trying to impress him. But, there's just this lingering part of her that wants him to tell her she's beautiful.

Laurel tosses her phone in her purse before slinging it over her shoulder. She takes a couple small steps in her heels and is relieved at how steady she is despite her alcohol intake. She makes her way to her front door and draws in a deep breath before she opens it.

Oliver's eyes flicker to hers. She's a little taken by how well he's dressed. His clean cut hair matched with a black suit and sea blue tie is a look she's never seen on him before. Laurel can't remember a time he's ever looked this put together.

Laurel closes her door and locks the door behind her. Her eyes meet his and she says, "You - you look nice."

His hand touches the side of her bare arm. His touch is warm and a sharp rush crawls through her. "You look great, Laurel."

Her heart races and her chest seems to constrict. It air feels so thick, and time feels as if it's slowed to a crawl. Oliver closes the distance between them and she rests her head against her chest. His arms wrap around her waist, and it just feels normal.

Oliver parts from her and places his hands waist. "My driver is outside."

Oliver takes her hand in his, and it feels as if five years haven't even passed. Her hand tightens around his, and she steadies herself while she walks by his side. She's fighting that part of herself that wants to run away from this - the part of her that wants to hide in her apartment never leave.

The couple reach the elevator at the end of the hall. The doors ding open to reveal a redheaded woman in a wheelchair. Both of them move aside from her. Laurel's never seen her before. The woman must have moved in while…

No. Laurel fights against that last thought. She won't think about it, because she just cannot fall apart right now. Her fingers interlace with Oliver's in some attempt to draw strength from him. The couple step inside the elevator, and Oliver hits the button for the ground floor.

The ride down to the ground quiet. The doors open, and they walk through the lobby. The couple exit the complex, and Laurel sees a tall man dressed in suit leaning against black Mercedes sedan.

"This is my driver, Mr. Diggle," Oliver introduces.

"It's nice to meet you," she says.

"It's a pleasure to meet you as well, Miss Lance."

Oliver opens the backseat door for her. Laurel climbs into the car and slides over to the other side before Oliver climbs in after her. He closes the door and there's this uncomfortable silence.

Laurel turns to Oliver and gazes up at him. Somehow, her five year long wish has materialized before her, shouldn't she "try" to make it work? She's hesitant at first, but she finally forces herself move closer to him. She rest her head on his shoulder, and she feels his arm around her shoulder.

"I missed you, Ollie," she murmurs.

"I missed you too. Every day on that island…"

The door opens and Oliver's voice trails up. Diggle sits in the front seat and asks, "Where to, Mr. Queen?"

"Take us downtown," Oliver says.

…

Oliver's heart is beating against his chest. He's been waiting to just "be" with her for five years, and she's so close to him right now. When the car pulls up to the curb, it almost takes Oliver a moment to realize he's actually here in Starling City with Dinah Laurel Lance resting her head against him.

The car parks in front of the Chinese restaurant that he took Laurel to on their first date. Oliver can still remember his first date in exact detail. He remembers being buzzed on vodka and flashing his money to impress a girl he liked just a little bit more than usual. God, he was such a shallow prick five years ago. He's surprised that Laurel put up with him for so long.

"Ollie," Laurel's voice is soft - almost breathless.

Oliver turns to her. There's a glazed over look in her eyes. She's been drinking. He remembers visiting her as the vigilante. She'd been drinking last night too. It's understandable concerning her circumstances, but it still worries him.

Oliver pushes away his worried thought. He looks her in the eyes and says, "I've had a lot of time to think for the last five years. Laurel, this is something I've always hoped to do if I made it back home."

Laurel is smiling up at him. He's not expecting her to fall in his arms and pick up where they left off. He's not expecting for all her pain to rush away from her like nothing ever happen. But, he does hope that maybe they could reconnect and possibly have some sort of friendship. God knows both of them need someone to lean on.

Oliver opens the door and holds his hand out to Laurel. She takes his hand, and walks by his side to the restaurant. When they enter, a dark haired woman standing behind a podium. She smiles up at the couple. "Welcome to Jade Garden."

"I have a reservation for two under Queen," Oliver says.

The hostess grabs a pair of menus and says, "Right this way, Mr. Queen."

The hostess takes them to their table. It's a small table next to the window with a white tablecloth and vase of flowers on top. "Your server will be right with you."

Oliver says a quick thank you to the hostess before she leaves. Oliver clears his throat and flashes a smile. Laurel looks up at him with her sea green eyes he's missed so much. A strand of brown hair falls in her face. Oliver resists the urge to reach over and brush the fallen strand from her face.

"How are things with your family?" Laurel breaks their silence.

"It's been difficult," Oliver says. "My mom seems to be handling everything alright. She's married to someone new. But, my sister isn't doing so well. She's been in a rough place since I've been gone."

"I'm sorry to hear that," she says.

He thinks of Thea. The girl is a mess right now. She's drinking and possibly abusing other substances with her messy group of rich, bratty group of friends. His nightly activities aren't exactly showing that he's a stable influence in her life, and it isn't exactly making it for him to be there when Thea really needs him.

"How is Tommy?" she says. "We sort of lost contact about a year after you…"

Her voice trails off. Her eyes lower to the table, and he hadn't even begun to imagine the pain his love ones must have felt upon his disappearance.

"He's grown a lot closer to his father," Oliver says. "They're working together a lot, and he's traded in his party days to help with his dad's company. I'm happy for him. They weren't exactly on good terms before I left."

"I never really liked his dad to be honest," Laurel says with a nervous laugh.

"You wouldn't be the only one," Oliver can't help but laugh with her.

A waiter comes to their table and interrupts. "Hi! I will be taking care of you? What would you like to drink?"

"I'll have a water to start," Oliver says.

Laurel's scanning through the drink section. Her fingers are shaking before she finally pulls her eyes away from the menu. "I'll - uh - I'll have a glass of Merlot, please."

There's another sudden silence between them. Laurel's eyes gaze out the window. There's a distant look in her eyes almost as if a part of herself isn't even present.

The images from his masked visit last night come back to him. She'd had a lot to drink, and it sets off some warning signals. He almost wants to stop her, but rationalizes her behavior. She's dealt with so much, and he can't be the one to chastise her a day after her sister was almost murdered.

The waiter brings their drinks and sets them before them. Laurel's eyes tear away from the window and she gazes at her glass of wine. Oliver never remembered her to be a heavy drinker at all. He was the one always stumbling out of bars while she took care of him. He watches as she takes a long sip from her glass and sets it before her.

"Are you both ready to order?"

"Yeah," Laurel says. "Uh - I'll have the curry chicken please."

"And, I'll have the beef chow mein thank you."

Laurel is finishing the last of her wine. She sets the glass aside and she smiles at him. "I heard you opened up your new night club."

"Yeah, Verdant," he says. "It's been doing better than I expected."

"You'll have to show me sometime."

"We could go after we're done here," Oliver offers.

"That sounds great."

Laurel is smiling up at him, and she just seems to have loosened up a bit. Her eyes gaze down at her empty glass of wine and her smile falters a bit. The waiter comes back to the table, and her eyes raise to meet him.

"Another glass, miss."

She nods without hesitation.

…

Oliver is surprised about how well their dinner went. Laurel is giggling against him as they leave the restaurant. The three glasses of wine she ordered worried him at first, but she seems to be handling herself alright. She's happier than he's seen her since he's been back, and he'll let her indulge in alcohol if it's going to lift her spirits.

"I'm not sure why I wore those fishnets that night," Laurel giggles. "It was so over the top."

"Hey, I don't remember minding that much," Oliver says.

"You and Tommy tried to outdrink each other," she says.

"I remember," he says. "I also remember the hangover the next day."

"I don't ever think I let you live that hangover down," Laurel says before she dissolves into another fit of giggles.

They reach the car, and Oliver holds the door open for Laurel. The two of them climb into the back seat and Oliver slams the door behind him.

"Diggle, drive me to Verdant."

"Yes, Mr. Queen."

Laurel is resting against him. He strokes her soft brown hair. This moment - it wouldn't have happened had he acting on his impulse to take Sara on the Queen's Gambit. Laurel would have never forgiven him. He remembers that day at the bar. A young man - a burnette, probably just as tall as him - sat down next to him.

" _Do you still love her?"_

 _"Yes."_

 _"Then, why are you about do the one thing that will push her away from you. Have you even thought of the consequences? Obviously not. You might think you're too smart to get caught, but believe me, you're about to make the most bonehead mistake of your life. And the consequences of your bonehead move are going to worse than you ever imagine."_

Oliver will probably never see that young man again, but he's glad that he took his advice. Because of that one stranger in a bar, Oliver still has Laurel in his life. His smiles at that thought. So many horrible experiences happened on that island, but at least he can be this close to her. Most of all, he can be there for her.

The car slows to the curb. Oliver opens the door and helps Laurel out of the vehicle. She wraps her arms around his. He glances down at her and she's smiling up at him.

They enter the club through the back entrance. The main bar is to their right, and Oliver thinks how close they are to his biggest secret underneath this club. What would she say if she discovered he is the vigilante? He's imagined several different scenarios over the past week.

Oliver is pulled from his thoughts when he sees Thea with a drink in hand clearly intoxicated. She's surrounded by her group of her drunk friends. He feels anger rise in his chest and a feeling of mild embarrassment that Laurel had to witness his sister acting like a complete idiot.

Oliver approaches Thea and crosses his arms. "You're going home. And, you're explaining this to our mother and Walter in the morning."

Thea rolls her eyes at him. "Oh, whatever. It's not like you were some angel when you were my age."

Her eyes fall on Laurel. Her look of annoyance dissolves from her face and is replaced with a look of embarrassment. Thea bites her lip and storms passed him.

"Thea!" Oliver shouts. "Damn it - get back here!"

"I'll get her home," Oliver turns to see Tommy beside him. He glances over to Laurel and smiles. "Hello, Laurel. It's good to see you."

"It's good to see you too," she says.

"If you'll excuse me, I have your drunk sister to attend to," he says with a forced smile.

Tommy walks passed them and disappears into the crowd. Oliver shifts uncomfortably as he turns back to Laurel. "I'm sorry. That's not something I wanted you to see."

"It's - it's okay," Laurel responds.

Oliver walks beside Laurel to the main bar. The bartender approaches them and says, "Is there anything I can get you, Mr. Queen?"

"A double shot of vodka would be great," he says with a hint of irritation towards his sister left in his voice.

"And for the lady?"

Oliver glances over at Laurel. She's already three glasses and he's sure that she'd been drinking before he picked her up. He really should stop her, but he ignores his better instructs.

"Yeah - I'll do a double shot of vodka too."

The bartender pours top shelf vodka until both shot glasses are filled to the rim. Oliver sets a fifty dollar bill down to tip and slams back the shot of vodka. He takes Laurel's hand after she finishes her shot. He won't tell her not to drink, but he will make sure she won't be in a position where she can order more alcohol.

"Let me show you upstairs," he says. "It's a lot less crowded."

Oliver guides her up a flight of stairs. He takes her to where they can watch the crowd dancing below them. He watches as she sets her hands on the railing to steady herself. Oliver sets his hands on the rail next to Laurel's. Their hands barely touch, and he feels a rush run through him. Their eyes meet and he holds her gaze. For five years, she was the one thing that kept him going. Apparently, his feelings never died over the years, because he's still ridiculously in love with her.

His eyes flicker away from her, and he gazes down at the crowd. His hands tighten around the railing. She's been through so much, and to ask her to pick up where they left off would be too selfish.

"It's really strange," she says. "My dad, my sister - everyone - told me to give up. I tried a couple of times, but I just needed to know for sure that you weren't gone."

He turns back to her and he looks into her eyes. He feels as if someone is squeezing his heart, and all he wants to do is express what he feels. He can't though. Laurel has been through hell, and if she involves herself with him, he'll only put her into further danger. To ask her to involve herself with him on such a personal level would be the most irresponsible and selfish he could do.

If he were wise, he'd ask her to stay far away from him. He won't. She's already lost too much, and to dismiss her - even to protect her - could break her. Absentmindedly, he puts his hand on her forearm. She lowers her eyes, and he can see all the pain in the world in her eyes.

"I'm sorry," he says.

"No…" tears are brimming in her eyes. "It's me."

"Nothing is wrong with you," he says.

She raises her eyes. "Really? Because last night, I left her in that car without thinking, and now she has to remember last night for the rest of her life, because I left her."

Tears are flowing freely down her cheeks. He gently thumbs away her fresh tears. "None of this is your fault."

Laurel closes the gap between them and leans into him. Her head rest against his chest and her fingers cling to his shirt.

"I wish I could believe you," she pauses for a moment. "I wish…I could do something other than just hoping it will go away. Look at me - I'm supposed to be having fun and I'm a mess."

"Laurel, no matter what happens, I will always be here for you."

He rests his chin on top of her head. Her fingers tighten around his shirt. She's had a lot to drink tonight, but can he really hold that against her? She spent three months forced to enact some psycho's fantasies and just last night her sister was almost murdered. He's been through his own personal hell on the island, but that can never compare to the humiliation and pain Vertigo inflicted upon her.

Oliver pulls away and cups both of her cheeks in his hands. "Laurel, you are important to me. If you ever need anything, all you have to do is ask."

He takes his hands from her cheeks and takes both hands in his. She's looking up at him with tears in her eyes and he feels as if his heart is being split in two. She is the one driving force that motivated him to survive that island, and here she is she is hurting. The woman he's in love with is suffering, and he can't help her.

Laurel's hands tighten around his. It is as if he is her last lifeline. Oliver can feel his chest burn with anger. He has to find Count Vertigo. He has to make him and everyone following that sick, demented bastard suffer.

He places one hand on her bicep while the other still holds her hand tightly in his. "I can take you home if you want."

She lowers her eyes to the floor and nods. "Yeah, I think I should go home."

Oliver brushes a strand of hair away from her. He holds her close to him. There are two things he's certain of. He is still head over heels in love with Dinah Laurel Lance, and he will make Count Vertigo suffer.

…

The ride home is quiet. Laurel's hands are on her knees as she stares at the floor of the car. Her chest feels as if it's twisting, and her fingers tense around her knees. She's angry with herself for being so emotional and drunk. She thinks of the horrible impression she must of made, and all she can feel is all the shame in the world.

The car slows in front of her apartment complex. Oliver opens the door and climbs out. He offers her his hand. She hesitantly takes it. She's surprised that he interlaces his fingers with her's, because he really should be mad at her. She's a mess of alcohol and uncontrollable emotions.

The walk through the lobby, the elevator ride, and the walk to her apartment door are all too quiet. She feels so terrible - like she's pushed him too far away from her. They stop before her apartment door, and she's not ever sure what she should say to him.

Oliver stands before her and looks her in the eyes. "Laurel, if you need someone to talk to about anything, you can call me."

She nods and resists the tears that threaten to fall. "Okay, and - I'm sorry about tonight."

"It's okay," he says. "I'm not upset."

Laurel leans into him and gives him a light hug. She pulls away from him and looks him once more in the eyes. "Good night, Oliver."

"Good night, Laurel."

She smiles a half hearted smile. Then, she unlocks her door and steps inside. She closes the door behind her and leans her back against it. She slides down to the floor, her hands are covering her face, and she starts to sob.

Laurel feels as if her life has been stolen from her. She feels as if her old self is falling away from her, and all that's left if this emotional wreck of a human being she's become. Her fingers dig into her hair as she cries into her knees. She's lost her ability to connect with anyone, she can't even go into her job, and worst of all, she feels as if her own sanity is slipping.

Laurel shifts on the floor, she uses her right hand to steady herself against the door, and she manages to stand despite the alcohol in her system. And, despite all this, she just wants another drink. She goes back to her nightstand to drink the last of her wine, but stops herself when she sees the vigilante's phone next to the almost empty bottle.

Laurel just wants to know him, because she just wishes she could be like him. It's this crazy idol worship that she's not sure she wants to understand.

Laurel walks to her nightstand and takes the phone in her hands. She sits on the edge of her bed and tightens her hands around it. If she could be like him, she could change so much. People like her and Sara wouldn't be at the mercy of disturbed men. She could do something.

Laurel remembers screaming yesterday. She remembers vaguely seeing a shockwave emit from her as the window shattered from the back of her sedan. What if she could make that cry happen again? Maybe she could save people too.

What if she meet him?

Laurel falls back into her bed and curls into herself. It's an absolutely insane idea. It'll probably be the death of her, but the more she thinks about it, the more she knows she'll do it.

She'll become a vigilante just like him.

...

 **Endnotes:** _This is basically where Laurel starts to turn around so the angst is going to simmer a bit now. Also, her journey in becoming the Black Canary is about to begin. I'm excited to write her dynamic between interacting with Oliver as a person and Oliver as a vigilante. Also, I feel like the tension of them not knowing as each other as The Hood and Black Canary will pay off way more than the love triangles and soap opera shit they tried to pass off to us in the show. Anyways, thank you for reading. I love reading your guy's thoughts. Thank you for all your reviews._


	7. A Rock and a Hard Place

_**AN:** I'm so sorry about the wait for this chapter. I started a new fitness regimen, and I have been working overtime. Thank you all for being so patient with me. This chapter will get to see Laurel finally start to take her power back and begin her process as the Black Canary. I want to thank you all again for all of your reviews last chapter. I'm so glad so many people are enjoying this story. I really miss Laurel on the show. I'm still angry with how they treated her, and I'm sure next season is going to be some Felicity circle jerk just like the back half of season four. But, it doesn't matter. With the rumors of Black Canary being in the DC cinematic universe, I'm hoping we get great writing for Dinah Laurel Lance. _

**A Caged Bird**

A Rock and a Hard Place

The next morning, Laurel wakes with another hangover. She groans to herself with mild frustration. She glances over to the bottle of wine, and there's this mild temptation to start her day drinking. Laurel sits up and takes the bottle of wine in hand. She's glances at it for a moment.

Laurel remembers her last thoughts before passing out. She had this rather absurd thought that she could be like the vigilante. Maybe she shouldn't still be entertaining that thought, but she does. It will be impossible for her to achieve anything if she continues down this road, and Laurel refuses to keep doing this to herself.

Alcohol cannot be the answer to what has been done to her. Laurel tightens her grip on the bottle and forces herself to stand up. It's hard to walk into the kitchen, and it's even harder to pour the red liquid down her kitchen sink. There's still this part of her that's begging her to replace what she's poured out. She won't let herself.

 _There has to be another way._

Laurel steadies herself with one hand against the counter. Her mind is racing with ideas. How does one even become a vigilante? Did some injustice happen to The Hood? Was he an ordinary man with a job and a family like her? She wonders what drove him to act. What was it that finally pushed that man over the edge?

Laurel's imagined meeting the real man underneath the hood. He's dressed in a suit sometimes, and other times he's dressed in a t-shirt and blue jeans. She has this idealized vision of a man that is just _so_ good. There's something inside herself that can't see him hurting good people.

If she wanted to be like him, Laurel would first need a costume. She's not even sure where she'd start with that one. Laurel goes to her closet and slides the door opens. She sifts through several different outfits. There's pants, dresses, and dress clothes for work. There's bags from purchases she made right before her kidnapping that have never even been worn.

Laurel slides the closet door closed and goes to her dresser. She pulls open the top drawer and glances down at a that pair of fishnets she wore years ago. She remembers wearing them at one of Oliver's party, and she just couldn't ever bring herself to throw them away.

Laurel takes the fishnets in her hands and sets them on the top of her dresser. She has a few ideas floating in her head on what her vigilante costume might look like. She sees a leather jacket and long thigh high boots to match the fishnets.

The next thought she has is " _where would she even start?_ " Laurel knows that there's this part of her that really wants to save people just like The Hood, but there's also that unresolved anger she has towards Count Vertigo.

Some of her memories with him are foggy, but she remembers some names of men he's worked with. There's also a few locations she remembers that Vertigo took her too. She remembers one of his henchmen snapping his fingers in her face and laughing in amusement that she was rendered absolutely powerless by a drug. Vertigo gave her various commands to follow to demonstrate the extent of his drug.

The man walked up to her till was inches away from her face. " _Who you going to prosecute now, bitch?"_

Laurel couldn't say anything in anything in response to his taunt. She stood with a vapid smile on her face and both her feet practically glued to the cement floor. She couldn't move or speak. She was powerless.

Laurel shivers at the memory. She takes a deep breath as she tries to trace the location from her cloudy memories. There was a warehouse. There was boxes upon boxes of drugs. Laurel searches her memory for the name of the road that warehouse resided near - _Presley Lane_.

It's in one of the absolute worst areas of the glades, and it's definitely a place that no one would want to be at night. Laurel's skin crawls at the memory of that day.

Laurel goes to her kitchen and fires up her coffee maker. She refocuses her thoughts as she tries to think of some sort of _vigilante_ plan. If she wants to find Count Vertigo, she'll have to start at that warehouse.

Her father taught her self-defense, and there is that scream she emitted when Sara was kidnapped. If she could throw together a costume and manage to overpower one of Count Vertigo's henchmen, she could find out where he is.

Laurel touches her wrist at the spot where the The Hood injected the vaccination. Count Vertigo can't control her anymore, and she could stop him from continuing his sick crimes. That would be enough for her. If she could put an end that man's crimes, she could move on. Maybe she could get her job back, and she can just be Dinah Laurel Lance again.

Laurel places both of her hands flat on her countertop and breathes. The rational part of her is trying to talk herself out of a potential suicide mission. She could end up dead, or even worse, she could become Vertigo's prisoner once more. Her heart lurches at the thought of that potential outcome.

Laurel remembers the night the vigilante saved her from the penthouse. She'd felt so _safe_ around him from the day he rescued her to the last time she saw him in her apartment.

He's probably trained his entire life. How can she even be so foolish to think that she could be like him? Her entire body tenses as her hands press against her countertop. Anyone would tell her to let this idea go and to move on with her life, but Laurel _can't_ just let it go.

Laurel opens the wooden cabinet above her and takes a ceramic coffee mug. She pours herself a cup of coffee and takes a sip. She needs to do this. If she talks herself out of it, she'll probably keep drinking. She _can't_ do that to herself. Laurel Lance cannot and will not let Count Vertigo reduce her to an alcoholic mess.

Laurel goes to her bedroom and sits on the side of her bed. She sets her coffee mug on her nightstand next to the vigilante's phone. She was supposed to give this to her father. She should make do on that agreement today at least.

Laurel takes her phone in hand. She sends her father a text to meet up.

But, first, she decides she'll go _vigilante_ costume shopping.

…

Laurel's hands grip the steering wheel of her rental car. The rational part of her brain is asking her to go home and call a therapist, because this is the worst possible way she can cope with her trauma. She can't let this go, because if she doesn't hunt Vertigo down, she'll never truly recover.

Laurel mentally counts to three and exits the car. She approaches the costume store. Part of her is convinced that she's just looking, and that she's not actually going to buy anything. That part of her tells her that this is some odd way of coping with her sexual assault and Sara's kidnapping. Then, there's the part of her that craves this like a drug addict - except instead of booze and bills, Laurel craves adrenaline and vengeance.

Laurel tells herself it's normal to feel like this. Isn't anger part of the grieving process? She pulls the door open, and she's bombarded with several colorful costumes. She remembers her Halloween costume - the one with the fishnets. She draws inspiration from that risqué outfit. She thinks maybe instead of a leather skirt to go with a leotard and instead of high heels maybe go with practical boots. Also, she needs a mask. Laurel's alter ego is about to make herself an enemy to the biggest drug traffickers in Starling City. She'll put Sara and her father in her direct path.

Laurel just needs a vigilante name to go with her outfit. She draws a complete blank. Then - it comes to her. _Pretty bird._ She could name herself after a bird to honor her masked vigilante savior. _Raven_? No, it sounds way too gothic. Perhaps _The Canary_. It feels a little like it needs a little bit more. She thinks to her outfit. It is all black. Perhaps... _Black Canary_.

It _does_ have a nice ring to it.

She thinks to her leotard, her fishnets, and her boots. She feels like it's missing something. She needs a leather jacket? There's one in her closet that she's never worn. She'd bought it a day before…

Her anxiety starts to spike momentarily. Laurel's heart races as she forces the memories of Count Vertigo to the back of her mind. She has to get through this one day without dissolving into a mess of tears and alcohol. Laurel breathes slowly and steadily. He's not here right now, and as far as she knows, she's safe.

 _And_ , if he finds her, she'll scream till his ears bleed.

She pictures him crouching as he covers his ears. It eases her anxiety enough so that she can make it to the register and pay for her items. _One_ day she'll make that thought happen, and he'll regret everything he's done to not only her but every one of his victims in _her_ city.

The cashier bags her items and hands the plastic bag to her. They exchange brief words before the cashier hands over her bagged items. Laurel grasps the plastic bag, and suddenly it all starts to feel real to her. She's _actually_ going to do this. A burst of adrenalin rushes through her as she rushes over to the rental car.

Laurel clicks a button on her keyring to unlock her car. She flops down in the leather seats of her rental. She's going to miss this car when the police finally release her Ford back to her. She smiles as she sets her purse and bag of purchases on passenger seat.

She can hear her phone vibrating in her purse. She grabs her phone and sees _Dad_ on her caller ID. She had almost forgot she agrees to meet so that she can give him the vigilante's phone. She tenses at the thought. Her father may feel gratitude towards the vigilante, but she's not sure how he'll feel about _working_ with him. Aside from that, it could get him into a considerable amount of trouble in his department.

Laurel puts her keys in the ignition and fires up her rental car. Adrenaline is still running through her. She puts the car in drive and flies down the road without a care in the world to the speed limit.

…

Laurel had originally thought to meet her father at the station to hand over the phone, but there are too many eyes and cameras. So she settled with asking her father to meet her at the Starbucks a block from his work. She sits with a steaming cup of mocha in her hands as her father's car parks in the lot.

Her father climbs out of his car and spots her through the window. He makes a b-line towards the door and meets her at the table without bother to order a cup of coffee. Laurel debates one last time whether to give her father the phone. On one hand, it will keep him safe in the department. On the other hand, she feels some kind of loyalty to the vigilante. He had asked her to give her father the phone, and besides, shouldn't her dad have a choice in this matter?

Laurel looks towards her dad as he takes a seat across from her at the table. He looks in her eyes, and then, he releases a rough sigh. Her father can read her like a book, and she can already tell that he knows it's something difficult. She sets the phone in front of him on the table. It's black with a hint of green.

"He gave this to you, didn't he?" her father says.

"Not to me," she says. "He asked me to give it you."

Her father pauses for a moment before clearing his throat. "Laurel, I know you look up to this guy, and to an extent I feel like I owe him a huge debt. _But_ , this could get us both in serious trouble."

"You don't have to use it," she says. "He told me it was for you. I thought I'd leave it up to you to decide what to do with it."

"You're putting me between a rock and a hard place. This guy knows things. He solves crimes that puzzle even the best of our department. Working with him could solve a lot of things," her father lowers his eyes to the phone and pauses before saying, "But, this is illegal, Laurel. I know we're both thankful for what he has done for our family. I like the guy just as much as you do, but we can't get too involved with him. Laurel, I'm not sure how many more meetings you've had with this guy…"

"Just one," Laurel interrupts. "After Sara…"

"Okay, one," her father says. "But, that has to be it. If we're seen with him - if there is even an inkling that we've communicated with him - both of us can be charged as accessories to his crimes."

"You can always throw it out," she replies. "Or turn it over to the police. It's not up to me at this point."

" _Laurel_ …" there is a tone of warning in his voice. "Don't - _please_. Don't get drawn into this guy or pretty soon it might be you in a mask on TV, and I don't want to be the one to put you in jail."

The irony of his statement feels like a punch to the gut. She hadn't even considered that possibility prior to now. She almost wants to take back her plan, but she's already made up her mind. It's too late now. She couldn't stop herself even if the whole world was against her.

"You have your sister. You have Oliver. I know your mom isn't around right now, but you have me," he says. "If you need to find a way cope, we're here for you."

"Dad, I'm fine," it takes everything for her to steady her voice. "I just - well - just take it or leave it."

Laurel pulls her purse over her shoulder as she stands. Her father looks up at her with concern. Laurel takes in a deep breath. "I'm sorry, dad."

Her father rises from the table and puts his arms around her. "It's okay, sweetie. I'm just worried. I know things are difficult for you right now."

Her father parts from her and places a hand on her shoulder. He smiles down at her. "I have to get back to work, Laurel. You can call me if you need anything."

Laurel nods to her father. She hates that she's going to be a wanted woman behind a mask. She hates that she'll put her father in the position where he'll have to investigate her alter ego. If she still had faith in the courts and the justice system, she wouldn't put her father through this.

"I love you, Laurel," he says. "You are my world."

"I love you too, dad."

Laurel takes the coffee from her table. She looks up at her dad. He eyes her with worry. She musters a fake smile. She'll be okay - as soon as she gets justices - _she'll be okay_. This is just to get vengeance. Then, she'll stop. She need this though, and unfortunately, she will become a wanted criminal. She hopes for her sake that her father won't be the one to catch her if the day comes where she's finally caught.

...

 ** _Endnotes:_** _Thank you all again for being patient. The next chapter is going to be really fun. Laurel will get to kick ass. Thank you again for all your reviews. They really keep me going!_


	8. Partners

_Sorry all for the late update! But here is the next chapter. I'm taking a break from the angst and adding in some girl power._ _Also to the reviewer that says that I'm making Laurel a Mary-Sue. This chapter will show her weakness as a new vigelante. I'm not writing a Olicity fanfic where Felicity saves the day just like she does in a horrible Mary-Sue fashion on the show. I'm sorry there's been a lack of Oliver and Lauriver these last two chapters but I promise there will be in my next update after this. I have to develop Laurel first._

 ** _A Caged Bird_**

 _Partners_

She does a double take of her costume in the mirror. It's feels like it's a bit much, but it's what she can afford. Oddly, it makes her feel confident. Laurel puts the mask on her face, and it all becomes so real to her. Tonight - Dinah Laurel Lance - is going to save the world. Or, at least a part of it.

Laurel takes off her mask and smiles to herself in the mirror. She looks so different with the blonde wig. Actually - she kind of likes how the blonde looks against her complexion. She thinks that maybe she should wear some dark lipstick to add a finishing touch to her costume.

She stands tall and there is a little bit of swag to her hips as she walks to her closet to find civilian clothes to throw over her stockings and leotard. Laurel throws on a simple tee and a pair of jeans followed by plain black flats.

Laurel pulls her dark hair into a ponytail and smirks back at her mirror. She can't help, but be a little cocky when she says, "Boom."

Laurel's ready for this. It almost feels as if she's born to do this. Her grin does not falter as she throws her leather jacket, mask, gloves, and boots into a duffle bag. She thinks back to a nightstick her father left at her place in her closet. Maybe she should bring that with her too.

Laurel goes back to her closet and grabs the nightstick from the corner. She goes back to her duffle bag and throws the stick inside before zipping it shut. Laurel slings the bag over her shoulder and moves through her apartment until she reaches the door.

She touches the handle and feels adrenaline surges through her. What if she sees the Hood tonight? She can't be Laurel Lance around him. She can't appear weak. She has to be like him.

If she's going to do this, eventually she will see him out there. It won't be the vulnerable moments she's experienced in her apartment. She'll have to detach herself from those emotions. No one can know. Not even him.

She turns the deadbolt of her door and walks passed the threshold of her apartment. She releases all the fears - the thoughts of what could happen tonight. She takes two steps forward, and she lets all her anxiety fall from her.

In this moment, she isn't Dinah Laurel Lance. She is the Black Canary.

…

It takes her a half hour to get all the way to Presley Lane. She parks her rental car on the side of the street and shuts off the ignition. There are small fears like the possibility that her scream was a one time experience. There's also the possibility that Vertigo might be there. The thought sends a shiver through her.

If he's there, she could hurt him. She could kill him. She's thought about it several times, but now that it may be a possibility Laurel isn't sure how she feels about killing. The Hood kills. She doesn't think any less of him, but it still makes her feel uneasy. Laurel has always felt that the justice should be served through the courts, and she's not sure if she can easily waver on that stance.

But, she has to do this. She has to at least try tonight, because the legal system has been polluted. Cops like her father will never be able to capture Vertigo, because men with power will bury any information that might lead to his capture. The Hood knows this. Laurel now knows this.

She'll become the justice Court Vertigo can't run from. He may be hiding now, but she'll run him down to the ends of the earth if she has to.

Laurel pulls her tee shirt over her head and makes a not so graceful attempt to pull her jeans off in the front seat. Her knee bangs against the bottom of the steering wheel and she hisses out a soft curse. Laurel toes off her flats and kicks them underneath her seat with her barefeet.

She reaches to the back seat and grabs the duffle bag. She pulls it into the front seat and tosses it on top of the passenger seat. She unzips the bag and grabs her leather jacket and gloves. She pulls the jacket over her shoulder and pulls the leather gloves over her hands. She snatches her boots from the bag. It's a pain to pull them over her feet in her cramped car, but she manages. Finally, she grabs the nightstick and it all feels complete.

Laurel opens the door to her car and climbs out of the vehicle. She slowly closes the door so that the only noise emitted is a soft click.

Her heart is racing with each step she takes towards her destination. Laurel grips her father's nightstick tightly as some kind of lifeline. There's this part of her that actually believes she has a death wish and tonight that wish will be granted. Maybe this is her way of committing suicide, because putting a gun to her head would be too easy.

Her heart is hitting her chest like a jackhammer. Several fleeting thoughts sift through her mind. There's her father and her sister. Then, there's Oliver. She's reckless. Laurel just got him back, and her she is marching to her death.

But, she can't stop.

The warehouse is in eyeshot now. Her adrenaline spikes. She needs to live through this night, because she needs to see the Hood. She needs to know him. No. This is about revenge. Mostly.

Her heart skips, but it's also that she's in some twisted sort of love with The Hood. It's absolutely every bit as insane to her as it should be. Laurel accepts this notion. She probably lost her sanity the moment she was kidnapped.

She can hear voices. Every muscle inside her feels as if they were all set on fire. There's a man with his back turned to her in the distance, and her grip tightens around her baton. She raises the baton as she closes in on him. Her entire body trembles as she takes one final step. Then, she brings the baton against the side of his head.

The man grunts before falling to the ground. Her heart is racing and takes her glove off to check his pulse. It's faint but it's there. Laurel is conflicted. She should want to kill them all, but she's relieved that she didn't kill this man. He's awful. She knows that anyone working with Court Vertigo should deserve death for moving such a horrible product through Starling City.

She should want to kill these people, but she doesn't. She just wants justice. She wants to see these people off the streets.

Laurel pulls her glove back over her hand. She grips her baton, and moves along the chain link fence in a soft run. There was a supposed to be a plan to this, but now she's just running on adrenaline. Killing is no longer an option in her mind.

Not yet.

Not today.

The Hood kills. She doesn't look down upon him for his methods, but Laurel can't bring herself to follow in her idol's footsteps. Maybe she's not ready. Maybe she'll never be ready.

Laurel spots a weak point in the fence. The barbed wire seems to have been cut. Laurel breathes. She's not at all in the best shape to climb. She tosses her baton over the fence, cringing at the clunking noise it emits when it hits the pavement. Laurel grabs tightly to the criss crossed metal. She takes in a deep breath and climbs the fence. She throws her legs over the top and leaps to the ground.

Laurel rushes to her baton and snatches it from the ground. Her heart is racing. What if someone had heard the sound of her baton hitting the ground? What if someone had seen her climb the fence?

She races to the entrance. Her heart is pounding against her chest. She sees two men walking toward the entrance. It's now or never. She races to one of them and hits him on the side of the head with her baton.

The second one raises turns to face her. He's reaching for his gun and Laurel's stomach plummets. She screams.

She sees shockwaves arise from her mouth as the man drops his gun to cover his ears. She clutches tightly to her baton and hits the man against his jaw, knocking him out. She smiles as her heart thuds against her chest. This is happening. She's really doing this, and she's succeeding.

"The scream came from over here!" she hears a man shout in the distance.

"Shit," Laurel hisses.

There goes her low profile. Laurel rushes behind a semi truck to conceal herself. She can hear the men talking amongst themselves from behind the truck.

"Where is this screaming bitch?" one asks.

"She can't be far," another says.

Laurel moves slowly around the vehicle. All she has to do is scream. She feels an arm around her neck. She struggles against the strong grip, but the man behind her is too strong. A cloth is pulled over her mouth tightly, muffling her voice.

Laurel panics. This is it. She's going to die. Her skin crawls as thoughts of Sara, her father, and Oliver flicker through her mind. How will they handle it tomorrow when her body is found dumped on some highway or under a bridge? She can feel tears brimming her eyes. Oliver - he's just survived hell and now he's going to lose her too. She's so selfish.

She hears a soft whistling sound and then man's grip loosens. Laurel pulls the cloth from her mouth and turns with every intention to scream. She sees an arrow in the man's head. It's the Hood! He's here to save her again. Her heart flutters just a bit at that thought, and she can feel her cheeks burn.

Laurel looks up expecting to see The Hood standing on top of the semi. It's a woman. She shouldn't feel slightly disappointed especially after this black leather clad, purple masked woman saved her ass. She does, and Laurel mentally chastised herself for acting like an immature teenaged girl. This woman just saved her life, and she should be every bit as grateful to her as she would if it were the Hood.

The woman leaps down from the semi. She approaches Laurel with confidence Laurel wished she still had. The woman stops a few feet in front of her with a crossbow in hand. "You're new to this."

"Kind of - I mean…" Laurel finally musters the courage to look the woman in the eye. "Thank you."

"How do you do it?"

"What do you mean?" Laurel asks.

"That screaming thing," the woman asks. "I saw it from above."

"I don't know," Laurel says. "It's a recent thing."

"We could help each other," the woman suggests.

"I almost got my ass killed," Laurel states. "What makes you think I can help you?"

"I can train you," she says. "I don't know why you're after Vertigo, but any enemy of his is a friend of mine."

"Why? I mean, what do you want with Vertigo?"

"He's a partner of my father's. He helped my father kill someone I cared about," she says. "What's your story?"

"If I told you, I'd be revealing my identity," Laurel replies.

"Look, I just cleared out that building," the woman says. "These thugs I just killed were the last of them. I have information you could use."

"Why should I trust you?" Laurel asks.

"I just saved your life," the woman replies. "Look, be all defensive if you want, but you need my help or you'll get yourself killed."

Laurel balances the options in her head and reluctantly agrees. "Alright, where do you want to meet?"

"You mean, later?" the woman says. "I'm not that patient. There's cameras all over this building. Let's get the hell out of here and we'll talk."

…

Laurel pulls into a Denny's with the now unmasked woman in the passenger seat of her car. Laurel tosses her leather over to the woman. "It will suspicious if you have a jacket over your bodysuit."

"It's still all leather," the woman comments.

"It just will, okay."

Laurel pulls her wig and mask off. The woman gasps.

"I get it now," she says. "You're the woman from the news. You're Dinah Laurel Lance."

"Yeah," Laurel says with a hint of sarcasm. "That's me."

"I'd want to kill him too," she says.

"Well, my secrets out," Laurel says. "Your turn."

"I'm Helena Bertinelli," the woman says. "I'm sure you know who my father is considering your job as an ADA"

"Yes, I do. I've tried to push for the DA office to go after him, but he's got friends in too high of places."

She scoffs at her comments. "He will never see justice through the legal system. I guarantee that."

"There's a lot of people that won't see the justice they deserve," Laurel says. "There are judges and dirty cops that are paid to protect these people."

"Well, I guess it's our job to change that," Helena says.

Laurel lets out a deep sigh and rests her head against the seat of her car. She turns her head to meet Helena's gaze. "I almost died tonight. I know this is going to send stupid, but I just want some damn pancakes."

Helena bursts out laughing and says. "I'm dying for some coffee and hashbrowns."

"I'm buying," Laurel says with a smile. "Take it as a thank you for saving my life."

"Deal," Helena holds out her hand to Laurel. "Partners?"

Laurel takes Helena's hand in hers and says, "Partners."

To Be Continues

AN: I'm going to try to keep love triangles at a minimum, but I could resist the Oliver loves Laurel, but Laurel loves Green Arrow thing which obviously will eventually play out so perfectly for Oliver. Also, Laurel making female friends is a thing the show dropped the ball on with Felicity. Helena and Barbara will both appear in this fic. Birds of Prey is just so much better than the shows OTA bullshit with Felicity who isn't even relevant in the comics at the helm of that stupidity.


	9. Tension

_**AN:**_ _Thank you all for your response! I know I promised no Felicity, but I sort of fibbed. This chapter will include her for a moment being annoying around The Birds of Prey since I'm sort of getting hate PMs from a overly obsessed fangirl (seriously, if you don't like Lauriver why have you invested reading 20,000 words of my fic; it's really disturbing). Also, there is some Lauriver in this chapter that I'm very inspired by from rewatching season one and remembering how protective Ollie was. I miss those episodes. The stunts and fight scenes were so much better choreographed. The show also remembered other characters existed other than Felicity._

 _ **A Caged Bird**_

 _Tension_

The next morning almost feels unreal. Laurel pulls the covers over her bed and swings her legs over the sides. She massages her temples in slow circles and breathes a heavy sigh. There's a knock on her bedroom door, and it takes Laurel a moment to remember Helena crashed on her couch after pancakes and coffee.

Laurel goes to her door and opens it. Helena hands her a steaming mug of coffee. "Thought you could use some caffeine."

"Yeah, thanks," Laurel says.

Laurel takes a sip. Her mind is still racing with so many questions, but stops on one. "Do you know the Hood?"

"I know _of_ him, but I've never encountered him out in the field," Helena says.

Laurel lifts her mug of coffee to her lips to conceal the disappointment that's probably radiating off of her. There's a piece of her that is dying to know who the man is underneath the hood. It's very probable that she may never know, and the that thought is slightly unsettling.

Laurel swallows a bitter sip of her black coffee. She feels a tinge of embarrassment at her obsession with The Hood. It's ironic that she wants to be so close to someone that's so far out of reach. He's practically obtainable and that's probably why she's so invested in her obsession with him.

Laurel crosses through her bedroom doorway. She walks toward her kitchen and sets the ceramic mug of coffee on the counter. She presses both her hands on the counter, completely lost in her own thoughts.

She wants to feel in control again, and even though she survived last night, she feels like she failed to really make any kind of difference. If not for Helena, she would likely be dead - or worse - she'd be Vertigo's captive again.

"You know Oliver Queen," it's not a question, but a statement. "I have to pick up something from his corporate office."

Laurel turns on her heel and crosses her arms. "How do you know Oliver Queen?"

"I don't," she says. "There's a woman in tech support there that helps when I need help breaking into computers and other technology."

"Does she know about…?" Laurel can't find a way to finish the rest of the sentence.

"No, I'm sure if she suspected anything, she'd pin it back to me doing stuff for my dad's _family business_."

There's a rush that runs through her, and it feels like a fire has suddenly sparked within her. She wants to go to Queen Consolidated. She wants to be a part of all of this. She's felt so dead for so long and it feels as if she's breathing for the first time since they day she was kidnapped. Her life since Oliver's presumed death has been a downward tailspin, and now she feels as if she's gained some control over the hell she's been living.

"I'm going with you," her voice is stronger than it's been in years. "I'll lend you some of my clothes and drive you as soon as I get ready."

…

It takes them fifteen minutes to get to Queen Consolidated. The building feels so ominous when she sees it for the first time in ages. She steps through the front doors for the first time in years. It hasn't changed a bit. She remembers the flowers surrounding a memorial the last time she's entered the building. It's now been replaced with a plaque in memory of Robert Queen.

Laurel takes her eyes away from the bronze plaque and follows Helena to the elevator. She presses the button for the tenth floor, and they both wait in silence as the elevator ascends to their selected floor. The elevator opens with a ding and Laurel follows Helena to a room two doors down on the right.

The door is left propped open, and when they enter, a blonde woman in a ponytail walks towards them. Her skirt is an awful polka dot pattern that clashes with her bright pink top. Her hair is pulled down back in a ponytail, and she can barely walk in the heels she's attempting to balance in.

"Hi," she says. "So uh, how can I hope you ladies?"

"I'm sorry to see, Miss Gordon," Helena says.

"Oh she'll be back in like a minute," the woman says as her gaze shifts from Helena to Laurel. "So, you're like the girl from the news? Oliver's girlfriend...or ex girlfriend. I can't really keep up anymore, sorry."

Laurel swallows nervously. It's uncomfortable to be accosted by a complete stranger about her personal life. It was always difficult dating Oliver Queen with the paparazzi trail their every date. This - though - it just feels so much worse. Everyone knows she's _that girl_ from the news. What happened with Vertigo will always be the first thing strangers think about when they meet her?

"We're not here to gossip," Helena crosses her arms and narrows her gaze on the blonde woman. "We're here to see your supervisor."

"Oh sorry," she says. "I mean, yeah, I'll just go over there."

"Yeah, you do that," Helena's voice is cold as the woman excuses herself.

Laurel would almost feel bad for the girl if she wasn't so inappropriately intrusive. Her previous anxiety seems to lift a little bit without some young woman asking her questions like she's writing for a gossip rag rather than working in a technology department.

"Helena, you're early."

Laurel spins on her heel to see a redheaded woman in a wheelchair behind her. Laurel recognizes her from a a few of nights ago. The woman lives in the same apartment complex and ironically on the same floor that Laurel does.

"I was over at a friend's place," Helena says. "She lives closer."

The woman adjusts her glasses and looks over to Laurel. "You live in my apartment complex? You were with Mr. Queen?"

Laurel side eyes the blonde from earlier who is completely engrossed in their conversation. It all feels so _high school_. Laurel doesn't want to throw more flame on whatever fire is stewing in that young woman's head. She chooses her next words as carefully as possible. "Yes, we used to date, but we're still good friends."

"I've never really met him," the woman says. "Just seen him around. I'm not entirely sure he knows this department even exists."

"Computers were never really Oliver's thing," Laurel says with a laugh.

"Well, I'm Barbara," she holds her hand up towards Laurel.

Laurel takes the woman's hand in hers. "I'm Laurel."

"It's nice to meet you," Barbara says as she reaches in the front pocket of her blazer and reveals a flash drive. "Anyways, Helena, I removed the encryption from all of the files. I'm not sure what this person is involved in, Helena, but it's all _very_ illegal. There's a lot of files regarding drug rings and human trafficking. You may not want to be around whoever you lifted this flashdrive from."

"Thank you, Barbara," Helena says. "I'll be sure to notify the authorities."

"You're welcome," Barbara says. "It was nice to meet you, Laurel."

"You too, Barbara."

Helena pockets the flash drive and turns on her heel to leave. Laurel follows her out the doorway, and it's almost unreal that she's in this building without Oliver. And, there he is rounding the corner in a nice suit. It feels as if she's falling back to six years ago all over again.

Oliver catches Laurel in his line of sight, and he looks shocked to see her here. Oliver dismisses the secretary with a few words, and he makes his way towards her in a brisk walk.

"Laurel?" his hand touches her bicep and his eyes soften.

"Hey Ollie," she tries to keep her voice even. "How are you?"

"Busy," he says with a forced grin.

"Well, um, I'll let you get back to your work," Laurel tries to pass him, but she feels his hand clasp softly around her wrist.

Laurel's stomach sinks. She's with a woman Oliver's never met, and she's not even sure where to begin with excuses to being at his corporate office.

"Laurel?" he asks. "Why are you here?"

"I was just showing my friend around," she says. "We were in the area. I told her how we knew each other, and she was interested in seeing what Queen Consolidated looked like on the inside."

Laurel gives out a nervous laugh. She hopes for a glowing smile or something to squash her fear that he doesn't buy her story. This looks _desperate_ \- like _crazy_ _ex_ type of desperate. She watches as Oliver averts his eyes away from her. They narrow as they fall upon Helena. Does he know her? Laurel starts to panic.

Oliver pivots from Laurel. His hands are now jammed in the pockets and his shoulders straighten. Oliver's been reckless on his worst drunken nights, but she's never seen him act so _rude_ in her life. She hasn't felt angry with him since his return home, and she can't really say she's entirely angry with him right now. There's that familiar irritation she remembers from so many years ago that she hoped she'd never feel again.

Oliver takes his hands from his pockets and extends one arm out to Helena. "Oliver Queen."

"Helena," she says as she shakes his hand.

"Helena _Bertinelli_ ," he stresses her last name. "Our father's knew each other _quite_ well."

"Did they? I _wasn't_ aware."

Helena's gaze hardens, making the already uncomfortable situation so much worse. Laurel's heart feels like it's going to burst and her skin feels as if it's crawling with ants. The air suddenly feels five times thicker, and Laurel just wants to be anywhere but in this building. She watches them both stare at each other with absolute venom, and she almost wishes she could just disappear from the scene entirely.

Oliver pulls his gaze from Helena. He takes two steps towards Laurel. Something is _wrong_ , and Laurel does not want to have any sort of conversation about the ideas that could possibly be floating in her ex-boyfriend's head. She crosses her arm's in front of her chest defensively.

"Laurel," Oliver's voice is hardened as he speaks slowly. " _Can we talk?_ "

Laurel pauses as she searches Oliver's eyes for answers. She drops her hands to her sides and reluctantly agrees with an uneasy, "Sure."

Her feet are practically planted to the ground and her palms are sweating. He drops his gaze from her momentarily before asking, "In private, if you don't mind…"

Laurel swallows nervously. She's never seen him like this even when during the worst hurdles in their relationship. Oliver walks passed her, and she follows with all the reluctance in the world. Oliver opens the a door to what appears to be an empty meeting room and closes the door behind her.

Laurel places a hand on her hip, and it takes every bit of self-control not to implode with anger. She thinks of the fights they use to have. She remembers the shouting and sometimes saying things drunk that she wished she could take back the following morning. She thinks of the skin crawling feeling she'd have for days after their arguments.

She won't let herself fall back into those old habits. "Oliver…"

Suddenly, her voice becomes caught in her throat.

"Laurel…" Oliver's voice softens just a tad. "You've dealt with a lot, and I know it's probably difficult to connect with people right now. _But_ , that woman out there is _not_ the person you want to get involved with."

Laurel swallows roughly. She touches the meeting table for some attempt to find support. He's _right_. She's seen what Helena can do, and the reason for their friendship could get her killed. If only she'd let go of her almost suicidal vigilante death wish, she'd probably heed the warning he's dishing out.

"Ollie, I know you're worried…"

"I am worried!" Oliver's voice cracks, and he breathes as he recomposes himself. "I don't want anything to happen to you, Laurel. If I lost you…"

The spark of anger dissolves as she looks into his eyes. This isn't like their other fights. This is so much different. _He's afraid_.

Laurel finally speaks. "I know you're trying to protect me…"

"I am _trying_ to protect you," he takes a step closer to her. "Laurel, listen to me, her father is a drug lord. The type of product his _crime family_ moves is supplied by…"

Oliver stops. His eyes are glossy. She knows what he's about to say. She _needs_ to hear him say it. And, if it's _him_ Helena's father is working with, she'll risk everything to help Helena hunt him down.

There are tears stinging the back of her eyes. Her voice breaks when she finally manages to say, "By who, Oliver?"

There's a deep sigh and pause. "Her family works with Count Vertigo, Laurel. They move his products through nightclubs and ruin the lives of good people by getting them hooked on what they're selling."

Laurel wants to agree and nod. She wants to lie to him and tell him she'll never see Helena again. But, she _won't_.

"I don't know what her father is involved in, Ollie, but I can't just accuse her of being a part of it. Who's to say she's anything like her father? I can't make assumptions with no evidence," Laurel's realizes she's talking about Helena like she's her lawyer. It feels as if her hearts being squeezed. She misses her job every day.

Oliver let's out a frustrated sigh. There is this silence that passes between them, and finally Laurel musters the courage to dismiss the entire conversation. "I have to go, Oliver."

She walks passed him, and it feels so terrible. Maybe she's obsessed with the Hood, and maybe there's no chance to fix whatever they had before he got swept away at sea. But, she cares about him, and she always will love him in her own way. She feels Oliver's hand softly clasp around hers as she walks by him. Her heart stutters, because it just makes her feel loved by someone.

"Be careful, Laurel."

He releases her hand, and Laurel exits the room with a heavy heart. She sees Helena waiting for her in the hallway. She approaches her and does her best attempt to fake smile. She's sure it looks as stupid as it feels.

"What was that about?" Helena asks.

"He's just worried about me," she says. "I'm so sorry about all of that."

"It's not a big deal," Helena says. "We'll just have to meet up with Barbara at your complex for now on."

"Yeah…"

Laurel glances up at the security cameras lining the hallway. As far as she knows, Barbara may have to deal with a hovering ex-boyfriend over her shoulder now. She tucks her guilt away and tries not to blame herself. It's not like she knew she'd run into her overprotective ex and create conflict for other people.

But, the guilt is still there. And, she tries to remind herself that Oliver hasn't exactly been thorough when it comes to doing his job before. She imagines he'll just get angry and leave it at that. At least, she _hopes_.

...

Oliver pushes the glass door open with enough force that it shakes as he exits Queen Consolidated. His anger feels as if it's burning through his suit. He feels as if he could set the whole world on fire with just one look. His body guard is following close behind him, and it's becoming increasingly frustrating to be monitored especially in times like these.

"Where to Mr. Queen?" Diggle asks.

"Verdant," Oliver says. "I need a drink."

 _And, access to a certain underground lair_. Oliver puts his hands in his pockets. He knows the next exactly who the next asshole on his father list is going to be - Frank Bertinelli.

 _To Be Continued_

 _ **AN:**_ _So yeah, basically, I'm going to try to make regular updates again. Again, I really do missed the first season of this show. It's not without its faults, but I felt like Oliver and Laurel's history was so beautifully highlighted at times. The way he worried about her and would just drop everything for her is an element that I thought was amazing. Thank you all again for your reviews. I love hearing from all of you._


	10. The Benefit

**_AN:_** _I apologize the delay. This chapter was difficult to write. I probably rewrote it five times. There is a lot of Lauriver in this chapter. So, I'm happy the plot has finally moved enough where I can start moving them towards each other. I hope you all like it. There's also some Tommy moments since I plan to keep him alive in this fic._

 **A Caged Bird**

 _The Benefit_

Oliver opens his laptop. The first person he searches is Helena Bertinelli. There's a link to an obituary dedicated to a man named Michael Stanton. He reads the brief paragraph. He was murdered _and_ he was also Helena's fiancé.

He types in Michael's name and discovers news reports upon news reports of speculation that it was a mob related murder. Oliver draws the connection. Helena and her father were obviously in on it together. What did Michael know that put a target on his back? Oliver is determined to find out before anything happens to Laurel.

Laurel is stubborn, and she's about to make a huge mistake associating herself with Helena. Count Vertigo must have ordered Helena to watch over her, and it's only a matter of time before Laurel goes missing again. Oliver won't let that happen. He _can't_ let that happen. That woman - her picture - gave him so much strength to survive the island. To lose her would put him in a darker place than he already is.

He will take down Frank Bertinelli and his daughter. Their days of drug trafficking and their family legacy ends tonight. Oliver walks over to his bow and grips it tightly in his left hand. He came back to this city to clean up scum like the Bertinelli Crime Family, and now he feels like he's finally making progress on his father's list. This Michael will be avenged as will many of the victims of Helena and Frank. Laurel will be safe, and he can sleep easy for one night.

Oliver goes to his counter and sets the bow on the counter top. He notices a green phone on the table, and he thinks perhaps to call Lance. He must have piles of information on the Bertinelli Crime Family and reports of the murder of Michael Stanton.

Oliver takes the phone in his hands and dials the number to the phone he gave Laurel. He hopes to everything that Laurel actually gave Lance the phone and when Lance picks up the phone with _who is this?_ he feels all the relief in the world.

"Lance, I need your help."

" _Look_ , _when it came down to my daughters, I was willing to bend the law. What you're asking me to do is illegal and I can't have any part of this."_

Oliver wants to tell Lance that Laurel may be in danger, but he can't. It will draw too much suspicion to himself and perhaps expose his identity. He resists every part of him that wants to tell Lance how much danger Laurel is in and settled with another option.

"If you wish to further the investigation with Count Vertigo, I need your cooperation."

There's a pause. " _Alright, I'll listen but I'm not agreeing to anything."_

"I need information, any records on the Bertinelli Crime Family."

" _They are guilty as cardinal sin, but we do not have enough evidence to warrant an arrest."_

"I will find the evidence you need for a prosecution," Oliver offers. "Frank Bertinelli has direct ties to Count Vertigo. If you or I are able to get Bertinelli to roll over, you might be able to make an arrest on the man that kidnapped and violated your daughter."

There is another beat of silence. Oliver knows the entire back and forth debate that's happening in Lance's head. Lance will agree. This is the only choice that Lance _can_ make.

" _Alright...alright, but this is the last time I help you."_

"Call me when you have the information," Oliver says abruptly before he disconnects the phone.

…

Laurel sets her keys and purse on her kitchen counter. The tension from her argument with Oliver is still stirring within her. It takes her back to five years prior where their fights could rival couples on reality television. This time it wasn't an embarrassing drunken jealous tiff. Oliver was genuinely concerned. It's not as easy to tuck it in the back of her mind and ignore it. His words are buzzing in her head like an annoying fly she can't get rid of.

"I need access to a computer," Helena interrupts her thoughts.

Laurel pulls herself together and turns to Helena. "My laptop is in the living room."

Laurel walks into the living room and sits on her couch. She opens the lid to her laptop and types in her password. Laurel passes her laptop to Helena who eagerly presses the flash drive into the USB port. Laurel clasps her hands together and leans toward as she waits for Helena to scroll through the information.

"There's information on several warehouses my father uses to store illegal drugs and illegally obtained firearms," Helena comments. "We can start by picking off each location one by one."

Laurel sets her palms on her knees and grips them tightly. She was hoping that maybe there would be information on Vertigo's whereabouts in the encrypted files.

"This is odd…"

Laurel's eyes perk up. Her eyes glance over to the screen to see an email. "What is it?"

"My father has beef with Malcolm Merlyn."

"Don't take any of that too seriously. There are a lot of people that don't like Malcolm Merlyn," Laurel says.

"Don't be so harsh, Laurel," Helena pushes the laptop towards Laurel. "Malcolm Merlyn has donated a lot of his fortune to law enforcement in the glades. It's put my father in quite a bind when it comes to his drug trafficking business."

Laurel's brow furrows as she reads through the documented email. She's never really _known_ Malcolm other than the a few small occasions during her relationship with Oliver. Laurel wouldn't go as far as to say he was horrible to her, but she remembered always feeling uncomfortable around him. Despite this - what she is reading does make sense.

"I know his son, Tommy," Laurel says. "Oliver had mentioned to me that Tommy's mother was murdered in the glades by some thug."

Laurel continues to click through the documents until she stops on one. Her stomach flips as she reads the information. Her skin crawls as she takes in every word. "I have to call Oliver."

"What is it?" Helena says.

Laurel passes the laptop back over to Helena and says, "Malcolm is having a benefit tonight that your father's thugs plan to crash. Tommy will be there, and most likely Oliver too. They go everywhere together."

Laurel rises to her feet to retrieve her phone. Helena grabs her wrist and Laurel turns to see a look of warning in her eyes.

"You can't tell him," she says. "Having this information alone will draw suspicion to you, your family, and myself."

"People are going to die, Helena," Laurel says. "I know you want revenge. I understand that completely, but Tommy and Oliver are m friends."

"I understand that, Laurel, but turning over this information to your father will get him killed. There are people in his department that want to keep this information buried. If you're lucky, the worst they'll do is disbar you from practicing law."

"My law career isn't going anywhere right now, anyways."

"Maybe not now, but in the future, this will blow over. You don't want to jeopardize your career or the safety of your loved ones. I made that mistake and my fiancé paid for it."

Laurel sees a look of grief and warning in her eyes. Her voice hardens as she searches for a solution. "Then, what do we do?"

"We'll go there ourselves," she says. "We can stop this."

Laurel thinks of all the possible angles to avoid Malcolm Merlyn's benefit from being attacked. She thinks to text her dad, but he would ask where she got the information from. Laurel almost wishes she kept The Hood's phone for herself. He wouldn't ask so many questions ridiculous intrusive questions.

"I can ask Oliver to go as his date," Laurel's heart feels heavy at those words. "That way I can stay close to him."

"I'll go alone," Helena says. "It will look less suspicious if we arrive at different times."

Laurel puts a hand on her hips. She paces back into the kitchen and retrieves her phone from her purse. She scrolls through her contacts to _Ollie_. She hits the call button and waits for him to pick up.

Oliver picks up with a simple, "Hey."

"Hi Ollie…"

There's an uncomfortable silence before Oliver finally speaks. "About earlier…"

Laurel swallows the nervous lump in her throat before speaking. "I know you're worried, but I promise I'm fine."

He pauses. Laurel feels as if her heart is going a hundred miles an hour. Her hand grips the phone tightly as her other hand braces herself on the table.

"I actually called you, because Tommy's father is having a benefit. I thought you would be there, and I wanted to know if you wanted to go together."

"Yeah," he pauses. "I'm mean, sure. I'll pick you up at seven."

"I'll see you then."

Laurel lowers her phone and hits _end_ to disconnect the call. Her chest constricts. It sounds like a date, and it feels like she's leading him on. She returns to the living room and collapses onto the couch next to Helena.

"When did my life get so complicated?" she groans.

"You've been through a lot. It's not going to be easy to adjust to what's happening to you," Helena says.

Laurel bites her lip and digs her fingers into the couch cushions beneath her. When she discovered Oliver survived the shipwreck, she thought she'd escape. She imagined she'd recover, and after time, she could be with Oliver.

It was a nice thought...

…

Diggle pulls the car up to the curb. Oliver can still feel residual tension from earlier. He tries to release the stress and remind himself to take it easy for tonight. He can feel Laurel's picture burning through the wallet in his jacket.

He managed to hold on to that picture despite everything. It had helped him get through those first dreadful days. That picture helped him when Slade had lost his mind. It got him through Hong Kong and every bit of adversity he'd faced.

Oliver steps out of the car and makes his way to Laurel's apartment complex. The last time he saw her before coming home was that one day in Starling. She was in front of his grave in tears with a bottle of booze in her hand. She told that grave stone how much she missed him. She talked about how she'd gotten a job at a nice law firm.

Oliver thinks of that night she'd gotten too drunk on their date. How long has she been throwing back alcohol to cope? He'd always remembered her to be so much more careful. She'd get tipsy, but she'd never just lose herself like he would. He feels guilt slice through him. Maybe she learned it from that person he used to be.

He opens the door to her lobby of her complex and passes through the lobby till he reaches the elevator. Oliver presses the button and waits for the elevator to descend to his floor. The silver doors open with a ding and he steps inside the empty box. He presses the number to Laurel's floor and waits for the elevator to take him to his destination.

The doors open with another ding. Oliver walks down the hall till he reaches the apartment at the end. He knocks on the door, and suddenly his nerves feel so much tighter. Oliver has never felt this nervous around Laurel since the first time he tried to win her heart. The picture in his wallet feels as if it's burning through him again, and he just can't shake the tension within himself.

When the door opens, it takes everything to keep his composure. She's wearing a hot pink dress, her brown hair is in chestnut waves, and her eyes seem to sparkle just a little bit. She smiles up at him as she closes her apartment door behind her. Best of all - she actually seems _sober_.

"You look...nice," Oliver compliments.

"Thank you," she says.

Oliver puts his arm around, Laurel. An electric feeling rushes through him at the contact. He's been waiting years to be close to her. Perhaps tonight will finally be the night…

They reach the end of the hall and Oliver presses the silver button to signal the elevator. He tries to tell himself to relax. He remembers a time where he felt so confident around her, but it's so different now. Back then, he didn't respect her the way he should of. He took her for granted.

It's different, because the last five years all he's wanted to do was to be in her arms again. He spent five years in hell, and it made him realize how much he really loved her.

 _The prettiest girl in the whole world…_

The elevator dings open, and Oliver takes Laurel's hand in his as they enter the elevator. He hits the button for the ground floor. The elevator descends downward and the silence is damn near killing him. His heart feels as if it's been twisted, and his breathe tightens. He wants to say something to her. He wants to see her eyes light up and to see her pretty smile.

The elevator dings open and Oliver tightens his grip slightly on Laurel's hand. All his anger and frustration from their meeting earlier has been replaced with an uncomfortable nervousness he can't quite shake.

Oliver pushes open the glass door and guides Laurel to the apartment. If she hadn't asked, he would have never went to Malcolm's event despite Tommy's invitation. He'd be parading around as the vigilante tonight.

Diggle is waiting outside with his arms crossed. He opens the door to the back seat of the car. Oliver waits for Laurel to climb into the car before taking his seat next to her. Diggle closes the door behind him, and Oliver sits nervously in the silence.

He almost compliments her smile, but the words seem trapped in his throat. Diggle interrupts his thoughts as he climbs into the front seat. "Where to Mr. Queen?"

"Merlyn Industries, please," Oliver says.

…

Laurel is surprisingly focused when the car pulls up to Malcolm's. She reminds herself to use the pistol in her purse if something unfortunate pops off. The building is littered with cameras, and she'd rather keep her new _ability_ a secret.

It's been years since she's been inside the building. The last time she'd been inside was when she first started dating Oliver. She hasn't seen Malcolm in years. It's odd. She doesn't dread seeing him.

"Wait here," Oliver says to her with a smile.

He exits the car and rounds the front of the vehicle. He opens her door and offers his hand. She takes it and he pulls her into a hug. Laurel lets out a playful giggle as he embraces her tightly. He puts both hands on her cheeks and looks into her eyes.

Laurel feels as if time has come to a complete stop. Her heart is beating against her chest, and she lets out a small gasp. It almost feels as if it's five years ago. It's like she's still in college and the boat accident never happened.

"Oliver!"

Laurel averts her gaze away from Oliver. Tommy is walking towards them, hands in his and a huge grin on his face. He glances over to her. His grin simmers to an encouraging smile. "It's good to see you, Laurel."

"It's good to see you too, Tommy. How have you been?"

"Oh you know...actually working instead of partying," he says. "Sometimes I miss those days - the parties...the women…"

Oliver bursts out laughing. "You can still do all that, Tommy."

Tommy laughs. "If only...my dad will cut my ass off…"

There's a silence between them, and Laurel feels as if there's this normalcy that's been absent in her life. This was how it used to be Tommy, Oliver, and her. They went everywhere together. Her college years were some of the best. Those years were so... _fun_. No stress. No pain. The feeling of deja vu is so intoxicating, because Laurel just wishes life would be that carefree and exciting again.

Laurel puts her arm around Oliver in an attempt to hold on to the feeling of deja vu. Laurel glances up at the tall skyscraper. It's taller than she had remembered it to be. They ascend up a flight of steps and Oliver pulls open the glass door for the both of them.

They make their way through the crowds, by passing every security checkpoint with ease. In college, there was a little bit of an ego trip whenever Laurel went out with Oliver. It was fun to feel like a VIP, and the best part was telling all of her friends the next day about her adventures with Oliver Queen.

They enter the banquet hall to a sea of business suits and expensive gowns. A man holds a tray of champagne before them. Tommy grabs a bubbling glass and says a quick thank you. Laurel is reluctant at first, but takes one after Oliver does. She makes a mental note to control herself tonight.

Laurel takes a sip of the champagne. It's surprisingly sweet. She restrains herself from sipping the rest of the drink down. The last thing she needs to be is sloshed if a situation pops off tonight.

She sees Helena in the crowd dressed in a tight sleeveless purple dress. The place was swamped with security. How did she get past the first checkpoint without an invitation?

Helena walks through the crowd towards Laurel. Laurel smiles over at her.

"Hi, Laurel. I didn't think you'd be here," Helena's lie is delivered so smoothly and seemingly effortlessly.

"It's good to see you, Helena."

Tommy eyes seem to dance with excitement. "Laurel, you didn't tell me you had such good looking friends."

Laurel almost wants to laugh at the whole situation. Tommy may no longer be the party boy he once was, but he's still just as much of a an arrogant flirt.

"Tommy, this is Helena," she introduces.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Tommy says.

As Tommy and Helena engage in small talk, Laurel catches the hardened look on Oliver's face. She glances back over to Helena and tries to ignore his sudden bout of moodiness. Helena has a complicated history, and she doesn't exactly know a lot about her. But, if Helena was a threat, she wouldn't have saved her life.

"Here, let me get you a drink," Tommy offers Helena. "Follow me."

Helena and Tommy disappear into the crowd, leaving Laurel with a now moody Oliver. She tries to ignore the piercing eyes and angry scowl on Oliver's face. Laurel takes another sip of her champagne as if it's some form of liquid courage.

" _They_ seem to be getting along nicely," Oliver says.

Laurel takes another sip of her glass of liquid courage and replies, "It's nice. She's lost someone close to her. This is good for her."

 _Pop! Pop! Pop!_

The sound of gunfire and the screams of guests startles Laurel. She drops her glass of champagne and scans the room for Helena. Tommy has his arms around her, shielding her from harm. Guests are swarming the room in fear. Laurel eyes five gunmen firing from the upper level of the banquet hall.

Laurel sees John Diggle rushing towards them from the other side of the room. She feels a sense of relief. Oliver is safer with his bodyguard than he is with her. If she wants to catch one of these men and find information, she needs to move quickly.

 _I'm sorry, Ollie…_

She takes the gun from her purse and rushes into the panicked crowd. She pushes through the crowd till she reaches the exit. She turns the doorknobs to notice that they are locked. She points her pistol at the doorknob and fires. She pulls the door open and rushes down the hallway.

There is a security guard now lying in a puddle of blood on the floor. Laurel grips her gun in both hands as she moves down through the now dark hallway. She hears a gunshot, and quickly runs into nearby stairwell. She races up flight after flight of stairs. There's another gunshot. She aims downward at her attacker and fires. She hears a loud scream, and there's this feeling of fear the runs through her.

 _Did she kill him?_ She's tempted to run back down the stairs just to makes sure. But, she can't. She'll put herself at risk. She has to stay on the move.

"You fucking bitch!"

Laurel leans back over the railing to see the man sprawled on a flight of steps. He is reaching for a pistol that he must have dropped when she shot him. Her heart is racing as she continues to race up the stairs. She hears a gunshot clink against metal and flinches at the sound. She pushes open the nearest door and rushes through. She's shaking and her heart is probably going to thrust through her chest.

But, she feels so _alive_ \- more alive that she's felt in years.

…

Tommy is rushing through screaming crowds. His arm is protectively around Helena as he scans the room for Laurel and Oliver. Neither of them are in sight. He notices that Oliver's bodyguard is somehow still on the scene. He rolls his eyes as he approaches Diggle.

"You have to be the worst bodyguard I've ever seen!" Tommy shouts.

He takes the pistol from inside his jacket. He fires up at one of the assailants and hits him directly in the head. The man falls over the railing and into the crowd.

"Nice shot," Helena compliments.

"You can thank my dad for teaching me," Tommy says with a half-grin. "Follow me. There's a way out of this building. My dad built it for situations like this."

"What about Laurel and Oliver Queen?" Helena asks. "We can't leave them here."

Tommy heaves a deep sigh. "We'll just have to hope they got out of here safe, and I'm sure they'd both want us find a safe way out of here. Laurel's father works for the police force. We can tell him everything when he arrives here."

She gives him a small nod.

Tommy takes his phone from his pocket. He dials his father's number. "Dad, remember when you said you would be late? You might want thank yourself for that right now…"

…

Oliver draws back an Arrow as he races up the stairs. He passes a man in black combat gear lying on the stairwell. He's breathing. Oliver leans down. He's barely conscious. He moves passed the man as he climbs the stairs. He moves until he hears gunfire. He pulls the door open to see a man opening fire. There's someone at the other end of the hall. He draws an arrow back and hits the man directly in the skull. He falls to the floor, and Oliver draws another arrow. He sees Laurel emerge from behind the corner of the hallways.

"Miss Lance…"

"You…"

Laurel rushes towards him until they are only a few feet apart from each other. Her breath is heavy and her eyes seem to soften as she looks towards him.

"They've locked most of the entrances," Oliver informs. "I believe their target is Malcolm Merlyn."

"What does Malcolm have to do with any of this?" Laurel asks.

"I'm not sure," he says. "Your father might know more than I do."

"We have to do something," she says.

"I need to get you out of here alive," he orders.

"I want to help you," she pleads. "Let me help you."

Oliver's entire body goes numb. Her behavior seems to make sense now - her friendship with Helena Bertinelli and her sudden rash behavior. Dread overcomes him at the very thought of Laurel attempting to be like him.

"The only way you can help me is to stay safe," he says. "Your father and your sister would be devastated if they lost you."

Her eyes drop to the floor and he can see the disappointment in her eyes. It's almost as if he rejected her in some way. It's best this way. She can't become like him. Laurel is so much more than he could ever be. She's _better_ than he'll ever be.

Oliver twists a knob to a nearby door. It's locked. He takes a step back and kicks the door. It flies open revealing a meeting room. At the back of a room is a wall length window. Oliver shoots one of his explosive arrows directly at the center of the window. It connects and explodes, shattering the glass.

"Follow me," he orders.

They approach where the glass used to be. He sees Laurel look down before she takes two steps back. She glances over at him. "We're going to jump?"

Oliver draws back his grappling arrow and sends it against the closest building. Laurel approaches him with all the anxiety in the world resonating off of her. Oliver wraps his left arm around her waist. With his free hand, he grips the grappling line.

"Hold on tight, pretty bird."

Laurel buries her face into his left shoulder. Oliver steps off the ledge, and he hears a deep gasp escape her. Her brown hair whips through the wind as they descend to the ground.

Oliver's feet connects with the sidewalk. It takes Laurel a few moments before she releases her hold on him. She's pulls away from him, and he's surprised to see a wild smile on her lips. She laughs a little before she looks up at him.

Her eyes seem so soft, and her lips are parted slightly. Oliver remembers that sparkle in her eyes. She _used_ to look at him like that - not as the vigilante, but as Oliver Queen - five years ago.

Her breath is heavy as she holds her gaze upon him. She's closes the gap between them and puts her hands against his chest. She stands on her toes, and her lips press against him.

Oliver's chest tightens as a rush of energy flows through him. His hand softly touches the small of her back as he returns her kiss. Her fingers clutch tightly to his leather gear, and it's as if his entire body has been struck by lightning.

She breaks their kiss and rests her head against him. Oliver's heart is racing, and his skin feels as if it's been lit on fire. He places both hands on against her shoulders.

"You need to get to go to your father, Miss Lance. I know you want vengeance, and I will bring Count Vertigo to justice for you. But, this life - my life - is not for you."

Her eyes lower to the ground as she nods softly. He can see her reluctance as she slowly turns away from him. Oliver watches as Laurel gives one last look over her shoulder before she darts away from him. It's heart-wrenching as it all starts to sink in. Laurel Lance is still very much in love with him. Not as Oliver Queen, but as the vigelante.

…

It's late when Oliver returns to Verdant. He walks behind the bar and pours himself a fresh double shot of vodka. He sits at the bar and takes a sip.

Laurel is infatuated with the other side of himself. He really shouldn't have kissed tonight. It's just that he's craved to be with her again for five years, and it was the closest he's ever gotten to her since.

Oliver's stomach twists in knots. He held onto her photograph all those years with the hope he'd be able to hold her, kiss her, and be with her in every possible way. He could go to her house and reveal himself to her. He could lie next to her tonight if he allowed it.

But, he won't.

Oliver downs the rest of his vodka. His hand grips the neck of the bottle, and he pours himself another glass. He takes another sip to drown the tension and frustration. _Of course_ , she would become infatuated the vigilante after everything. It's ironic that in a way she loves him, but he can never be with her.

Maybe it's for the best. She's in so much more danger if she gets close to him.

Diggle takes a seat next to him, and Oliver near jumps out of his seat in shock. He'd been so caught up in his own head that he failed to notice Diggle enter the bar.

"I figured it was you," Diggle says. "The way you always seemed to disappear and reappear at random intervals was suspicious in itself. Tonight, I followed you after you and Laurel dropped from the building to confirm my suspicions. You're the vigilante."

" _So…"_ Oliver's voice is thinly laced with an unspoken threat. "Are you going to turn me in?"

"If I was, I wouldn't be here," Diggle explains.

"Save me any bullshit, Diggle. I'm not in the mood for it."

"I didn't come here for conflict. I came here to tell you I'm resigning," Diggle says. "You're secret is safe with me, but I can't be a part of this."

Oliver scoffs at his resignation.

"Does Laurel know your the vigelante?"

"She has no clue."

"Keep it that way," Diggles voices hardens. "Or you might be standing in front of her grave one day."

...

AN: This chapter was difficult. I rewrote it several times and it got quite lengthy. I'm happy with the finished product. Thank you all for your reviews and patience. I'm glad I could finally sneak in a Lauriver kiss. :)


	11. Those Who Seek Vengeance

_**AN:**_ _It's ironic that I can stay stuck for weeks on my last chapter, but I nailed this chapter out in two days. Thank you all for your support. I love that there are other Lauriver fans out there, and I was sort of insecure about my last chapter (which is why it took forever). Also, I'm making a habit of trying to read through previous chapters and fix little spelling and formatting errors. I don't have a beta reader unfortunately. So, my proofreading is all done on my own. Also, Arrow Season 1 takes place in 2012. I don't believe you can wipe phone data back during that time. I had a 4S during those days, and I don't even remembering anyone mentioning that you could track them (unless you were a hardcore techie)._

 _ **A Caged Bird**_

 _Those Who Seek Vengeance_

Laurel crouches down to her water bottle and takes a sip. She's taken self-defense classes, because her dad practically thrust them upon her. This though - this is on a whole new level. The level of training Helena is on is something she's never seen before in the police department's weekly " _open to the public_ " self defense lessons.

Laurel's damn near exhausted and her body is practically drenched in sweat. Laurel should want to call it a day, but she's pumping with adrenaline after last night. Laurel should be scared. She'd been shot at several times and dropped from Malcolm Merlyn's office building on a makeshift zipline. Any normal human being would be absolutely terrified, but the whole time she just felt this raw energy. It was like a fire that could not be put out.

She remembers reuniting with her father shortly after. Tommy and Helena were waiting for her, and then, finally Oliver emerged citing that he'd escaped through an emergency exit that Frank Bertinelli's goons neglected to close off. Her father eyes were full of worry and fear. He'd attributed the attack to Count Vertigo without even a second thought. Her father is just as hell bent as she is on vengeance, and that scares her.

Then, there was what happened with her and The Hood. She touches her lips briefly as the memory of her and The Hood resurfaces. It's been in and out of her mind since it happened. She almost says something to Helena, but chooses to keep it to herself. It's just too _complicated_. This is the kind of stuff her and Sara would gossip about. Bringing girly issues into training sessions just seems out of place.

"Got something on your mind?" Helena says as she sits next to Laurel and crosses her legs.

"It's _complicated_ ," Laurel says.

"Oliver?" Helena asks.

"I wish it were that simple this time," she says. "Oliver, even at his drunkest, was less complicated than this."

"You were together for a while, weren't you?" Helena asks.

"We were," she says. "You know, for years, I was just hoping that one day he'd turn up out of nowhere. We'd move into an apartment together like we said we were before he left. There's the shit with Vertigo, and maybe I thought that we could just make it work. _I don't know_. I should want to be with him still, but it's too much now."

"All I know is what I see, and I see the way Oliver looks at you. That kind of love never dies."

Laurel's hands are shaking as she grips the bottle of water tightly in her hands. She wants to say something, but she's not exactly sure what she should say.

There's a soft ringing. "It's my backup phone."

"What happened to your iPhone?"

"It _mysteriously_ went missing from my purse last night," Helena says. "No big deal. It's not like I'm stupid enough to leave any incriminating information on a cellphone."

Helena flips the phone open and answers, "Hello?...That's very sweet of you...Yes, of course, I'd love to have dinner tonight...I'm looking forward to it. See you soon, Tommy."

"Wait, so you're actually seriously interested in Tommy?" Laurel asks.

"Not exactly," She closes her flip phone and turns back to Laurel. "I feel like an asshole, but I need to get closer to Malcolm Merlyn. If my father's after him, I might be able to unearth more information from his son."

"If it makes it any easier on your conscience, I wouldn't worry too much about breaking his heart," Laurel says. "He's not exactly a one woman type of guy."

...

Barbara chews on the end of her blue pen. She jumps in her chair when she hears the door fling open with a residual vibrating sound. The offending woman is huffing and puffing like a the bad bad wolf came to blow the whole department down. Barbara rolls her eyes. It's another one of Felicity Smoak's tantrums.

"I _do_ not deserve this," she says to herself. "I am one of the smartest one in this department. I'm a MIT graduate, and this is what I get!"

Barbara rotates her wheelchair until she can face the offending woman and raises an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"Mr. Steele _fired_ me!" she says. "And, you... _you_ were the one that made it happen."

Barbara rotates her chair away from Felicity and suppresses a grin. _God is real_.

"Yes, for gossiping about Queen Consolidated's heir every single _painstaking_ day - someone, I might add, you've never actually met. I had no choice but to report your behavior to my supervisor," Barbara explains as Felicity stomps towards her with her arms crossed. " _Look_ , I'm not trying to be harsh, but your behavior is completely unprofessional. This is a business _not_ a soap opera. Look on the bright side - you can tune into all the melodrama you want now that your nights are free. There's that reality show _Teen Mom_ or The CW if you're more into the fictional type of drama. Now, would you please leave me to my work while you clean out your desk."

Felicity kicks the side of Barbara's desk and turns her heel. Her framed photograph tips and Barbara catches it just before it hits the desk. It's the photograph of her and Dick two weeks before the _incident_ happened. He's holding her in his arms. She still misses him, and she wishes that what happened hadn't caused her to push him away.

There's a knocking sound at the door, and Barbara tears her eyes from her photo to see Oliver standing in the doorway. Her brow furrows.

"Mr. Queen!" Felicity races up to him. "Look, you have some sort of pull in this company, right?"

"Yeah, uh, sure," Oliver replies with a hint of sarcasm. "I'm only the son of the founder."

"I'm being fired for unfair reasons, because of that woman," Felicity points to him. "She thinks…"

"Hey, slow down, I'm not in charge of any of that. If your disgruntled, you can file a claim with Human Resources," Oliver says.

"Oliver, please…"

" _Lady_ , I don't _even_ know you," Oliver says through clenched teeth. "Not well enough to be on a first name basis. I am sorry that this is happening to you, but I am really _busy_ right now."

Barbara takes her office phone off the receiver. She dials the code for security. "Hi, this is Miss Gordon. There's a situation in the computer sciences department."

" _We'll be right there, Miss Gordon._ "

"Thank you."

It doesn't take long for the security guard assigned to the floor to reach the department. Felicity is practically pawing at Oliver's arm. Barbara eyes the security guard and points over to Felicity and Oliver. The guard nods in response and stands before Felicity and Oliver.

"Is this woman bothering you, Mr. Queen?"

"Actually - yes," Oliver releases an exasperated sigh. "I'm sorry, but I'm here to speak to Miss Gordon. I really need to go."

She see him give a half hearted smile as he side steps the now hysterical Felicity Smoak. The guard makes her step outside and closes the door. Barbara breathes a deep sigh and recomposes herself.

"I apologize, Mr. Queen," Barbara says. "What can I do for you?"

"My, uh, passcode isn't working on this phone," Oliver says. "I think it's some sort of glitch, and I was wondering if you could unlock it for me."

"I've never heard of an iPhone glitch of that sort, but I could take a look."

Barbara connects the phone with a iPhone capable to her computer. She runs a decrypting program on the phone and turns to Oliver as her program does its magic.

"Oliver Queen," he holds out his hand.

Barbara takes his hand and shakes it. "Barbara Gordon."

"Are you from here?"

"I am from Gotham actually," Barbara answers. "I moved here after Walter Steele offered me a job."

The phone unlocks and Barbara hands the phone to Oliver. "You're all set, Mr. Queen."

"Thank you, Miss Gordon. It was a pleasure to meet you."

"You as well."

Oliver is walking towards the door, but stops at the sight of Felicity shouting at the security guard. He turns back towards her and with an awkward forced smile asks, "Is there another door out of here? _Please_ tell me there is."

Barbara adjust herself in her chair to point around a corner. "There's a back door around that corner. It leads to an emergency stairwell."

" _Yeah_...I think I'll be taking the stairs today."

"I don't _even_ blame you."

Oliver walks passed Barbara. She glances over her desk to see Felicity being escorted away by the guards. She mentally reminds herself to tighten security on Queen Consolidated's computer systems. Felicity Smoak might think she's the greatest thing to grace god's green earth, but she's not even close to her level.

…

Oliver searches through the phone as he makes his way down the stairwell. There must be something on Helena's phone that will connect her to Michael Stanton's death as well as the shooting at Merlyn's Benefit. He goes through text messages. There's a few to acquaintances, but nothing of huge importance. He goes through her phonebook. There's a number listed as _Asshole_. He scrolls further to see Laurel in her contacts as well as a few other random names.

He closes out her contact list and goes through her photos. There's a few photos of her with what appears to be Michael Stanton. Why would she keep these if she murdered him? _Because, she didn't murder, Michael_. It's why Tommy escaped last night with her without a scratch on him. She wasn't at the benefit to assist her father. She was there to scope the place out just as he was.

She's hungry for revenge. That's what her and Laurel have in common. He wonders if she's disclosed any of this to Laurel. His blood boils with anger. This woman is hell bent on taking down her father, and Oliver does not want Laurel caught in that crossfire that's just waiting to happen.

His _vigilante phone_ buzzes inside his pocket. Oliver retrieves it from his pocket and answers. "Detective Lance…"

" _I have what you asked for,_ " Quentin says. " _We can meet at the pier tonight_."

"We'll meet alone. No weapons."

" _No weapons. Just me. You have my word._ "

…

The scotch still burns in his throat as Quentin steps out of the taxi. He steadies himself against the car door as his free hand clutches tightly to his folder. He thanks the cab driver and makes his way to the pier. He can feel the pint of scotch tucked in the back of his pants, and he's half tempted to take another sip.

It's getting out of control - his drinking that is. Quentin knows that he's been on a downward slope since the day he heard of Laurel's disappearance. He remembers as each new piece of information came out and finally when it was revealed that Count Vertigo was responsible. His wife left him the day after his first drunken episode. Sara had picked him up from the bar, and he'd stumbled into the house. He had a nervous breakdown of tears and anger. He couldn't stop shouting and had even tossed a shot glass into their sliding glass door as if the window pane was Count Vertigo himself.

He didn't hurt anyone. He'd just made a drunken fool of himself. The next day he woke up to Sara crying with that stupid stuffed shark in her arms. He told him _mom is gone, daddy_. She called Sara every weekend. Then, Laurel was rescued. His wife called one more time.

" _She's not coming home, daddy. Why won't she come home?_ "

 _Because of me_. It was his fault for being a drunken disaster. Quentin tucks the folder under his arm or as he reaches for his pint of scotch and twists the top of. He takes a long sip and let's the scotch scorch his throat. He twists the cap back on and tucks the pint back under his belt.

"Detective Lance…"

Quentin's stomach flips at the sound of the vigilante's booming voice. His knees feel weak, and his entire body tenses. He shouldn't be afraid of this man, because what possible motive would The Hood have to kill him. There still that tiny fear in the back of his mind.

Quentin turns to face The Hood. He isn't carrying his bow or wearing his quiver. It's softens Quentin's paranoia. He takes a few cautious steps towards the vigilante and holds out the beige folder labeled with _Frank Bertinelli_ in the upper right hand tab.

"It's all in here," Quentin says.

The vigilante takes the folder and opens it. He flips through the pages. Quentin balls his fists together. He really shouldn't be asking questions and involving himself with this man. But, he has to ask this one.

"Are you close to finding him?" his desperation and grief are completely exposed in his voice.

"Be patient, Detective Lance," the vigilante says. "Each day I get closer."

He can't be patient though. His heart feels as if it's being squashed, and he can't hold in his anger. Damn this scotch. Damn Count Vertigo. God damn this wretched unfair world he lives in.

"This man has taken so much from me," Quentin says. "Every day you waste he's destroying people's lives."

"He's hurt people I care about too," the vigilante says. "You're not the only one that feels anger and can hardly sleep at night."

The vigilante's words cut through him, and they simmer his anger. "Every night I'm afraid. I'm afraid he's going to kidnap Laurel and kill her this time."

"I won't let that happen,," the vigilante promises as he closes the folder.

Quentin watches as the vigilante reaches for something on his belt. His heart leaps in fear as the vigilante throws a small metal ball to the ground. It explodes with a grayish smoke. Quentin coughs as he inhales the smoke into his lungs. When the smoke clears, The Hood is nowhere to be seen.

 _ **AN:**_ _So, someone PMed me about Diggle. He will be returning, but it won't be for a few chapters. Next chapter is sort of where the story finally shifts into high gear. There will be bad ass scenes for Laurel, Oliver, Helena, and Tommy. I can't wait to write all of it, because this was the part I really, really wanted to get to writing. But, slow burn is always the best way to go._


	12. Rise of the Canary

_**AN:**_ I am very proud of this chapter. Finally, Laurel gets to show off. There are a bunch of comic book references in here. There's also a Stone Cold Steve Austin reference for any pro-wrestling fans. There is also a few lines of dialogue used in episode 1x07 of Arrow in this, because a lot of the scenes in this chapter lineup.

 _ **A Caged Bird**_

 _Rise of the Canary_

Tommy's not sure why, but he hasn't been this excited for a girl since high school. There's just something so mysterious about Helena, and he wants to know more about her. Hell, he was so enthralled with her that he'd forgotten to ask her last name. He shifts uncomfortably with both hands in his pocket as he waits outside of the Indian restaurant they'd agreed to meet at.

Then, he sees her in a black dress wearing a cross around her neck. She's absolutely beautiful. _Don't mess it up_ , he mentally tells himself. He expels a deep breath of air before he approaches her.

"Wow," he says. "You look great."

"Thank you," she smiles up at him with rouge lips.

Tommy offers Helena his arm, and she accepts it. The pair walk into the restaurant together. Tommy is vision is hit with bright red wallpaper and an array of golden statues. "So, what made you choose Indian?"

"Well, you suggested Italian at _Russo's_ ," Helena says. "And, I thought maybe we ought to be more adventurous."

They approach the host stand, and there is a man is dressed in a white shirt standing behind the podium. Tommy flashes a smile and says, "I have a reservation under Merlyn."

The man fumbles through a book and stops. He glances up at Tommy with a welcoming smile. "Right this way, Mr. Merlyn."

They follow the host to the table. Tommy pulls out a chair for Helena before rounding the table to sit across from her. He makes an attempt at what probably looks like the most dorky smile in the world and looks directly in her eyes. She smiles softly back at him, and Tommy clears his throat nervously.

"So, Helena," he says. "I should have asked you last night - especially after all the chaos. But, I never did catch your last name."

There's a brief pause before she answers, "Wayne."

He's heard that surname before, and it takes Tommy a moment to jog his memory. "As in _the_ Bruce Wayne?"

Helena pauses again and her smile falters for a moment. "Sure - I mean, yes, Bruce Wayne is my father."

There's a rush of excitement at all the possibilities that could come of this potential relationship. He probably shouldn't get too excited this soon, but he imagines what his father would think if he were dating the daughter of the much respected _Bruce Wayne_. There would be just so many doors their relationship would open for his father's company.

"So, you are from Gotham, then?" Tommy asks. "You know, I've been a lot of places, but I've never actually been to Gotham City?"

"It's actually a rather filthy city," Helena says. "You aren't missing much."

…

Laurel hadn't actually sought out a weapon's store. She'd just happened to pass it on the way home from getting groceries. It'd taken her a moment to make that u-turn to head back to the store, but here she is scanning through an array of different weapons. There are knives, swords and various other sharp instruments. Laurel briefly sees herself slicing through Vertigo with a very deadly looking katana hanging on the wall.

She almost asks to buy it, but second guesses herself. There's a fine line between justice and revenge. Laurel has always been a woman of the law. There's been dishonorable cops that have killed men in the glades without reason and still walked in with their jobs the next day. She won't be that person. Laurel Lance is an attorney at heart. She wants justice rather than be anyone's judge, jury, and executioner.

Laurel turns to see a long silver bo staff on a display. Below are boxes of the same staff in surprisingly smaller boxes. _It can retract_. How convenient.

"See anything you're interested in?"

Laurel glances over to see a husky bald man sporting a scruffy red beard, several facial piercings, and a black t-shirt with the slogan _Austin 3:16_ in bold white letters. " _Actually_ \- I was thinking of purchasing this staff."

"That's a good one," he says. "Is there anything else I can help you find?"

Laurel thinks of any possible thing she might need. She thinks of meeting her dad out in the field as well as The Hood. "Yes, actually, there is. Okay, it's really hard to explain, but I'm very nervous about my safety. Is there a device that can edit my voice?"

"I completely understand, ma'am," he replies. "And, yes we do have a product that you might like."

The man snatches a box containing the bo staff and tucks it under his shoulder. Laurel follows him to a glass case full of electronics. He retrieves a key from his pocket and unlocks the case. The man slides the glass door open and hands her a small box. He then closes the glass door and locks the case up.

"It's rechargeable," he says. "And, it has ten hours of battery life."

"It's perfect," she says. "Thank you."

"Anything else?" he asks.

"No, this is all."

"Alright, I'll ring you up, and you'll be good to go."

…

Tommy gasps as heat scorches his tongue. He brings a cloth napkin to his eyes and exhales deeply. His eyes are starting to water, and he's doing everything to salvage the little pride he has still intact.

"Too spicy?" Helena teases.

"No," he insists. "I was just crying because there was this movie I just saw. A lot of people died. It was sad."

They both laugh as Tommy rubs the blue napkin across both of his eyes. He sets the napkin back on the table, and thankfully the waiter comes to his rescue.

"Anything else?"

"No, thank you," he hands the waiter his debit card before setting his gaze back on Helena. "This was actually fun despite meeting in such awkward circumstances."

"Thank you for not taking me anywhere near an Italian restaurant," Helena jokes.

Tommy grins to himself. He pauses for a moment, and then asks, "Have you ever seen that movie speed?"

"Many years ago, yes," Helena replies.

"There's this scene at the end of the movie," he says. "After the bus blows up, there's this scene. Do you remember when Sandra Bullock rejects Keanu Reeves by telling him that she's heard some study about relationships not working when meeting in extreme circumstances?"

"It's been awhile, but I remember," she says.

"I don't know where this is going," Tommy fumbles nervously with the napkin on the table. "I'm willing to find out if it's true or not."

Her eyes lower for a moment. She's still smiling. It lifts his spirits just a little bit.

"I guess we'll find out," she says.

The waiter returns with his check. Tommy opens the black book and fills out a generous tip before signing the check. He pockets his debit card and hands the black book back to the waiter.

"Thank you, Mr. Merlyn," he says. "You both have a wonderful night."

Tommy glances across the table to Helena. "You wanna get out of here? Oliver has this nightclub we can check out if you're up to it?"

She smiles up at him. "Sure, why not?"

"Let's get out of here," Tommy says with a smile.

They both rise from the table, and Tommy takes Helena's arm in his. This is the first time he's been on a date in forever that his intentions aren't completely based on how fast he could get the girl naked. It's actually kind of _nice_. They exit the restaurant, and they round the corner to the parking lot.

Tommy feels something poke against his back, and his heart flips. Is it a pistol? _Dear god, it is a pistol..._

"Don't move," a man instructs.

Tommy remembers his father's training as he calms his mind. There has got to be a way out of this situation where both of them can get out alive. A van speeds over to the curbs and comes to a screeching halt. The side door slides open, revealing two men with guns.

 _Fuck…_

"Get in the van," the man pokes the pistol against Tommy's back.

The man shoves both Helena and Tommy into the back of the van. He swallows nervously as panic runs through him. _Calm your mind_ , he reminds himself as he thinks of his father telling him the exact same words. Tommy shifts himself behind Helena to conceal his cellphone from view. He takes the phone from his jacket pocket and dials 911. He sets the phone down on the floor of the car and puts a protective arm around Helena.

"What do you want from me?" Tommy makes sure to articulate each word. "If it's my father's money you want, I'm sure you can get him to pay a ransom."

"Shut up!" one of the thugs shouts.

The line is delivered loudly with each word enunciated. It will draw attention to the operator on the other end of the phone. If there's any way that they'll make it out of this alive, he'll have to be sure to give away as much information as possible.

"You know, no offense, but try not to do it in the creepiest looking white van ever," his line is another cleverly concealed way to relay more information.

"I told you to shut up!" the man says.

Tommy clenches his jaw. Adrenaline is pumping through his veins and he does his best to conceal any fear. His father taught him to survive, and he's determined that both him and Helena will _survive_ this.

…

Laurel sets the her newly acquired purchases on her kitchen counter. She flips on the television and her eyes widen in shock as a news reporter says, "The son and heir of Merlyn Industries was last seen leaving a restaurant with Helena Bertinelli who also appears to be another hostage in the investigation. The suggested motive appears to be ransome."

 _Shit…_

Laurel has barely had any time to train for this moment. If she acts, she'll be completely alone. She grabs the bag of her weapons, and reminds herself that her duffle bag of gear is already in the trunk of her car. She grabs her keys from her countertop.

Laurel rushes over to her front door and practically throws it open. She stops herself from bolting down the hallway when she sees Barbara Gordon fumbling with a pair of keys at her front door. An idea comes to mind. It's probably a long shot, but it's worth it to ask.

"Barbara," she says. "Uh, hi. I don't know if you remember, but I'm uh, Helena's friend."

"Hi, Laurel," Barbara says. "It's good to see you again."

"It's good to see you too," Laurel pauses before she continues. "Actually, I sort of need your help."

"Sure, what's the problem?"

"Well," she pauses. "This is going to sound odd. My friend Tommy has been reported missing. I don't know anything about computers or phones or anything at all like that. Hypothetically, if someone has an iPhone, is it possible to find them through GPS on that phone?"

"It is. Do you have the phone number?" she asks.

"Yeah, it's uh - actually saved in my phone...which is back in my apartment," she lets out an exasperated sigh. "Excuse me, I'll be right back."

…

"My father will end you when he discovers what you've done," Helena threatens.

It's a bold statement. How the hell would a one percenter like _Bruce Wayne_ be able to take down any of these thugs? Perhaps she thinks her dad is invisible because of the wealth he generates, but Tommy imagines the man couldn't hold himself against these group of thugs. Hell, he's not even sure if his dad is capable of it.

The man slaps Helena across the face, and Tommy feels anger burn in his chest. His hands struggle to break from of the zip tie as the man sends another slap across Helena's face.

"Oh, I've been wanting to do that for so long," he says. "I've known you've been up to no good for some time, Helena. You've got a huge vendetta against your father and me."

"I'm surprised. I never took you to this clever," her voice is calm and collected as she speaks. Nicky half grins as he scoffs at Helena. He raises his hand to slap Helena again.

"Stop!" Tommy says. "Both her father and I have a lot of money. We can pay you handsomely to let us go."

Nicky turns to Tommy and glares, "You think this is about your piece of shit dad and his money?"

Tommy's brow furrows in confusion. This entire situation is completely out there. If this man doesn't want ransom money, what the hell is his motive?

"Let him go, Nicky," Helena snaps. "Tommy is nothing to my father."

Nicky glares down at Helena. "Then, why the hell are you engaging in a relationship with the heir to Malcolm Merlyn's wealth? Merlyn has made it very difficult for your father to move his product through the glades. What the hell is your angle here, Helena?"

Tommy's eyes widen, and there is something telling him that Bruce Wayne is of no relation to this woman. Damn it. How could he be so gullible? His father had taught him better than that.

"Michael...my father murdered him…"

"Of course he did," Nicky lets out a sadistic laugh as he approaches Helena and yanks against her long dark hair. "Michael was a problem. He was going to turn us into the authorities, and your love was going to destroy the Bertinelli crime family."

It's as if a knife had been driven through his gut. So much for his deluded fantasies of dating the daughter of Bruce Wayne. He'd been so foolish and so infatuated that he'd almost lost himself in this woman. And, now, he might actually pay for it with his life.

Tommy is sweating profusely as his hands shift in the zip tie. His heart is racing as if he's running a damn marathon, and all he can think of is getting free of his binds.

"Michael was talking to the FBI, because of me," she confesses. "I told him everything, because I wanted out. He kills innocent people. It needed to stop."

"Then, Michael's death is on you, then. Isn't it, princess?" Nicky mocks as he raises his gun towards Helena. "Now, let me demonstrate _exactly_ how I killed him?"

Tommy's hands slip free of his bind, and the first thing he could think of is to charge Nicky before he can pull the trigger. He wrestles the man to the ground and manages to pull the pistol from his hand. He hears the whistling sound of a bullet. It barely misses him. Tommy flips around and aims the gun at his attacker. He pulls the trigger and hits the man directly in the chest.

Tommy races over to Helena who has now freed herself from her binds. "I have no idea what the hell you're involved in, but I'm getting us the fuck out of here."

The fear of death no longer lingers in the back of his mind. All he can think of is to survive. A thug jumps in front of him with gun aimed directly at him. His heart skips as he fears this may be his last breath. He's failed his father. _And Thea_. He'd promised his father he'd always protect her, and now he won't be able to fulfill that promise.

An arrow goes through the thug's leg and he screams in agony. Tommy breathes a sigh of relief. "You know, for a second there, I thought you exclusively saved Laurel's ass. It's good to know your more all-encompassing in your vigilantism."

…

Laurel holds her staff tightly in the hands as she races towards the warehouse. There are two men lying on the ground with arrows sticking from their chests. The Hood has beat her to the scene. _Of course, he would._ She was foolish to think that she might be one step ahead of him.

Laurel charges into the building and follows the trail of bodies. Even if The Hood has laid waste to every thug in this building, she won't go back till she knows Tommy and Helena are safe. She hears a gunfire and follows the sound. There's an open door and she crouches low as she enters. There is gunfire and the whistling sound of arrows being fired. A man spots her and lifts his gun at her. She has no choice, but to use her _ability_. She lets out a high pitch scream that sends a shockwave towards the man.

He drops his gun to cover his ears. He crouches over to the ground in agony, and the first thing Laurel can think to do is to charge him. She swings her staff against his head and feels it connect with his skull. The man grunts before collapsing to the ground.

The Hood is glancing over at her, and Laurel feels her heart leap. This is her chance to prove herself a worthy fighting - not just to The Hood, but to Helena as well. Without a second thought, she rushes towards two thugs. She swings her staff against one as she throws a kick towards the other.

She sees Tommy aim a gun at one of the thugs she's just attacked. She flinches at sound of the gunshot. The man yelps as the bullet goes through his shoulder. She makes a connection. This thug is dressed in a suit rather than combat gear.

 _He's the leader…_

Laurel watches him climb to his feet as he makes a break for the entrance. She tries to follow him, but feels a fist connect against her jaw. The pain shakes through her, and it takes her a moment to regain her balance. She swings her staff around and hits it against the side of her assailants jaw. He falls to the ground, and Laurel turns back to see the man in the suit darting away.

 _I have to catch him._

Laurel breaks out into a run as she pursues the man. She won't let him escape, because she just knows that he has information on Vertigo. She follows the man down a series of hallways until they reach a dead end. He turns to face her with his holding his bleeding shoulder.

"So, what now?" he asks. "Are you going to kill me?"

"Where is Count Vertigo?" she demands.

He laughs. "That's what this is about? You're not here to play hero?"

"You know where he is," she hisses.

"So, what if I do? What makes you think I'll tell you?"

She grips her staff tightly as several threats run through her mind. Laurel is at a stand still. She can't kill him, and she's not going to beat him half to death for information. Then, it comes to her. She screams. The man lets out a cry of agony as he holds his hands against his ears.

"Okay! Okay!" he says. "You really want to know about James Werner?"

"James Werner?"

"That's his real name," he says. "There's a warehouse in the glades on Reynolds Drive. It's falsely labeled as a storage facility for some organic produce. If you really want to meet with Count Vertigo, you'll find him there."

"Why would you so easily volunteer this information to me?" Laurel asks.

"Because…" he grins up at her. "Even if you try anything, you'll be dead in minutes."

Laurel feels a rush of anger at his words. She knocks him across the side of his head with her staff, and he falls to the floor completely unconscious. She stands straight as she feels a rush of pride run through her. _She did it_. Laurel has finally found that son of a bitch. _And_ , she did it all by herself.

Laurel struts down the hallway with pride till she reaches the exit. She needs to make her escape now before her father shows up with a sea of cops. She reaches the exit of the warehouse and steps outside. Her stomach flips when she sees The Hood with an arrow drawn at her.

"Who are you?" he asks.

"I'm not your enemy," she responses.

"You think because you have an _ability_ that you are unstoppable…"

"I got exactly what I wanted," a surge of arrogance runs through her. "So, maybe I am unstoppable."

There's the sound of sirens in the distance. She needs to separate any part of her personality that might lead to exposing her identity to him. "I have to run. See you around, Mr. Green."

The sirens are growing louder. The Hood is still pointing an arrow directly at her. She grins at him before turning her back. She knows he won't shoot her. Laurel breaks into a run as pride rushes through her. Tomorrow - it ends. She will finally have justice.

…

 _ **AN:**_ _So, next chapter...I've actually been waiting to write what's coming up for awhile. It's probably the moment most of you have been waiting for. There is going to be a lot of action, and where it all ends is going to be great. There will be tons of Lauriver and tons of feels!_

 _A few other notes...Mr. Green is a name that Black Canary uses in the comic books just like Ollie calls her "pretty bird". Also, yes, Laurel is getting ahead of herself in thinking that she's sort of bested Oliver in a way by getting to Vertigo first. But, that's hardly the case, and some of her mistakes this chapter will be revealed next chapter. It will all fit together perfectly, and I just know you all are going to love it! Thank you all for your reviews! I appreciate you all._


	13. Crime and Punishment

_**AN:**_ _And, here we are. I've been waiting so long to write this chapter and post it. The end is so perfect and bittersweet. I won't say much here, but thank you all for being so supportive! I'm glad I could share this with people that love Laurel as much as I do._

 _ **A Caged Bird**_

 _Crime and Punishment_

"My dad's pissed," Tommy frowns. "Like _really_ pissed. I expected him to be a lot more compassionate about getting kidnapped, but _nope_. Leave it to him to be a massive dick when I almost died last night."

Oliver pours Tommy his third double shot. Tommy takes the glass from the bar and practically drowns himself in it.

"It sucks, because I actually really liked her," he says. "You know, more than that just having a couple sessions on the mattress during the weekends...I actually was invested, you know?"

"You said you were saved by The Hood Guy?" Oliver asks.

"Yeah, and get this. He's got this girlfriend now. She does this sonic boom thing," Tommy mimics Guile's signature move in Street Fighter in an over the top dramatic fashion.

 _Girlfriend_...Oliver almost laughs at the notion. The girl's got a nice set of legs underneath her fishnets, and he may have lingered a bit too long at some other select _features_. Still, he's one hundred percent dedicated to Laurel. It was the promise he made when he returned. He was going to be dedicated to her in the way he never was before the boat accident.

"You sure they were working together?" Oliver asks.

"Oh, I'm sure," he says. "I'd work together with someone that looked like that if I were a vigilante."

Tommy takes the bottle of vodka and pours himself another glass. His finger traces the rim of the shot glass. He takes in a long breath of air and releases it. Tommy raises his glass in the air and practically sucks down the liquor.

"My dad has this really ridiculous theory about who she might be," Tommy says.

Every muscle in Oliver's body freezes. He waits for Tommy to continue, and when he doesn't, he finally asks. "So, tell me this crazy ass theory."

"You really want to know?" Tommy asks. "It's dumb."

"Hey, it'd be a good laugh. Maybe lighten the mood a bit..."

"So, remember those vaccinations I gave you?" Tommy says. "I told him I gave you some of them and he flipped shit. He thought it was Thea. He even called your mom to make sure she was home last night."

"What do the vaccinations have to do with anything?"

"They were recalled for side effects, remember?" Tommy says. "There was the girl that could change her eye color and a couple other weird cases."

Then, a sudden realization hits him like a freight train.

It shouldn't make this much sense, and he wants to find one scrap of evidence that might negate it. The evidence stacks up so perfectly though. There is the vaccination he gave her. There is her obvious obsession with his vigilante persona. There's is her friendship with Helena Bertinelli. And, then the most tragic piece of evidence, there is a very clear motive.

Dinah Laurel Lance is the woman in the fishnets. Her hero worship for him has transformed from an odd crush to her being hellbent on delivering justice in the same fashion he does. But, she wasn't on an island for five years. The path she's on is almost sure to lead to her own death.

" _I got what I came for._ "

She knows. Laurel knows where Vertigo is. Panic rushes through him, because he sees exactly how this is going to end. If he doesn't intervene, she's going to get herself killed tonight.

Oliver takes his phone from his pocket and pretends to check his messages. He returns his phone to his pocket. "Tommy...I really wish I could talk more, but something's come up at work."

"It's all good," Tommy says. "Don't mind me. I'm just going to sit her, drink, and wallow in my own self-pity."

"Just uh - make sure to lock up when you're done," Oliver says.

Oliver rises from his barstool. He's thankful he didn't bother to have a drink, because right now, he needs a clear head more than ever. There's only one thing he can do. He has to watch to watch over her and make sure that she doesn't commit to her path of self-destruction.

Oliver pushes the back door open, and he retrieves the phone he made specifically to contact Quentin. He flips the phone open and makes the call.

"Detective Lance," he says.

" _Yes?_ "

"I'm close," he says. "Be ready tonight. I will call you with more intel later."

He snaps the phone shut without another word. It's possible that he's over analyzing the situation, but judging by her cocky attitude, he's almost sure she knows where Vertigo is.

…

The sun is going down, and Laurel throws the last item into her duffel bag. She's debated calling Helena, but after last night - she's not even sure if it's a good idea. Besides, she handled herself last night pretty well. And, she has her _ability_ to back her up if necessary.

She'll be face to face with Count Vertigo again. It will be tough, and she reminds herself that she needs to be stronger than she's ever been in her life. There's also the possibility of her death or worse…

 _Becoming his captive again_.

Laurel's skin crawls at the thought. It almost makes her abandoned her plans, but she just can't. Not after coming this far. She's worked hard, and she won't let that go to waste. She pulls the duffle bag over her shoulder and exits her apartment. If she doesn't save the world from this man, who else will?

…

Oliver watches as Laurel throws a duffle bag into the passenger side of her car. His heart drops. She's wearing a blonde wig and a long trench coat that drops passed her boots. She's not wearing the mask, but there is no denying that she is the woman from last night. He clenches both the handles of his motorcycle.

He'll follow her. He tells himself it's highly unlikely that she's been given Vertigo's actual location. She'll be disheartened when nothing turns up, and he'll be able to talk some sense into her. She'll stop, and maybe try to live a normal life with her family.

Laurel climbs into her car, and Oliver starts the motor to his bike. He waits for her car to move, and follows behind her in pursuit.

…

Laurel passes the warehouse. She makes a circle around the block and makes sure to park her car in a discrete area. Her hands shake as she twists the keys in the ignition. The engine shuts down, and she is surrounded by an uncomfortable silence. Her skin feels as if it's being pricked with a thousand different needles, and she just wishes she didn't feel so _alone_.

Laurel shrugs her coat off her shoulders and unzips the bag to retrieve her leather jacket. She attaches the voice changer to her jacket and grabs her retracted bo staff. _You can do this_ , she tells herself over and over. Her hand is shaking as she pulls against the door handle.

She swings her legs outside of her car and her legs go numb with fear. Laurel sucks in a deep breath of air as she forces herself to stand. She slams the door behind her and tucks the retracted staff in her jacket. She releases a deep breath into the air. The last time she's ever been this scared was the first time she met Vertigo. She remembers dropping the a mug of coffee in shock when he approached in her in her apartment, a large needle in hand.

 _Focus…_

Laurel forces the memory from her mind. She takes one shaky forward. Then, another and another, until she finally breaks out into a run. It takes her a few minutes to reach her destination. It's surrounded with a chain link fence. Laurel throws herself at the fence and climbs it with ease. She leaps from the top of the fence, and her legs sting when she hits the ground.

She takes her bo staff from her jacket and presses the button on the side. It opens to it's full size with a _whooshing_ sound. She's gasping for air as her adrenaline spikes. _Calm down, Laurel. You can do this._ Laurel scans the area for any sign of Vertigo or his men.

" _Stop!_ "

She knows that voice. It's The Hood. She turns to face him. His bow isn't drawn at her this time, and his stance is non-threatening.

"I know why you're doing this," he says. "And, you have every reason to be angry."

"You don't know me," she says. "If you did, you would understand."

"I know exactly who you are," he pauses. "Dinah Laurel Lance."

 _But how?_ She met with him in costume one night. She made sure to conceal her face, her voice - _everything_.

"I've called your father," he says. "I didn't tell him, but he will be here soon. You need to leave before he's forced to arrest you tonight."

 _Pop! Pop! Pop!_

The sound of gunfire brings her back to her senses. She breaks into a run as The Hood fires an Arrow at their attacker. Laurel can hear the sound of police sirens in the distance. Her dad will be here soon. She needs to finish this as soon as she can.

Two thugs stand with their backs facing her. She strikes one in the back of the head. The other one turns to her. She kicks him square in the gut and slams her staff against his skull. Her heart is pounding, and her mind is racing. She can barely think and only push herself forward.

She feels a bag cover her face.

" _Not so fast, girly…_ "

 _That voice_ …

It's as if her entire body died at the sound. It's _him_. It's Vertigo. He kicks the staff from her hands, and he drags her as if she's a rag doll. Her feet stumble as he continues to drag her down several twists and turns. He's laughing like a maniac, and Laurel feels disgusted when one of his hands touches her thighs.

He pulls the bag off of her and draws her against him in a choke hold. An arrow sores into one of his guards. Laurel lifts her gaze to see The Hood standing high above them on an upper level. He aims his bow down at Vertigo.

"Let her go!" he demands.

" _Oh_ , you actually believe I'll just let her waltz out of here," he says. " _Not a chance._ "

"Vertigo, I swear to _fucking_ god!" he screams. "If you hurt her, I will kill you _slowly_ _and painfully_."

"Oh, don't worry I won't kill your lady friend, but I make no other promises," Vertigo's arm tightens around her neck. She can feel a needle graze her neck. "It's sad really. My last drug was taken from me by a vaccine. It had taken me so long to mix the perfect blend of votura with the right chemicals. And, now it's been rendered useless. This _new_ drug of mine though. It's sadistic in its own way. The pain it brings...people have killed themselves just to end it."

Laurel thinks back to her teenage years, and the time her father had taught her to escape a backwards choke hold. She tucks her chin against Vertigo's arm. She steps far enough to hit him against the groin, and sends her elbow against gut. The needle drops to the floor and Laurel snatches it off the cement floor.

She drives the needle into his neck. "See you in hell, asshole."

She presses her thumb against the syringe and watches as the brown liquid is forced into his veins. Her eyes widen as Vertigo falls to his hands and knees. He turns onto his back and lets out a high pitched scream. His body is convulsing, and all Laurel can think of no better punishment than this.

"SPD!" she hears her dad call out as he enters the room. "Freeze…"

 _Shit…_

Laurel breaks off into a run. He hears her father call _freeze_ one last time. Laurel glances over at him. His gun is aimed at her. She turns her gaze forward and darts out the room. Her father doesn't shoot.

 _Of course he wouldn't_. Not when Vertigo is lying in front of him in convulsing mess. A smile emerges in her lips as it becomes real. _It's over._ It's finally over.

...

Oliver crotches from a balcony above Laurel's apartment. A soft breeze runs through her hair, and he watches as she takes a sip from a glass of wine. Her phone rings and she sets the glass of wine down. Laurel takes the phone from table and places it against her ear.

"Hi, dad…"

She rises where she's sitting and leans against the rail of balcony. "They actually found him?"

Laurel seems so much calmer than he had imagined she'd be. There's a brief smile that emerges on her face. Then, it fades. "I don't want to see him again."

She brushes a strand of hair from her eyes. "I know it's part of the process. I just - please tell me Sara will be there when I come down to the station to ID him."

He watches as she snatches the wine glass in her table. She brings the liquid to her lips and drinks the rest of the red liquid. Then, she says, "I love you too, dad. I'll see you tomorrow."

Laurel juggles the empty glass and her phone in one hand as she opens the sliding glass door. She neglects to slide the door shut behind her, and Oliver feels so _intrusive._ He really shouldn't be here, because the temptation to reveal his identity to her is at a new high.

He leaps down Laurel's balcony and lands in a crouched position. He rises from the ground, and he debates whether or not he should enter. When he finally does, she's standing with her back facing him. She flinches slightly, and then, wraps her arms around herself protectively.

"Why are you here?" her voice is quiet - almost a whisper.

Oliver doesn't answer, because he's not exactly sure why he's here himself. Laurel turns to face him. Her lips her still a matte rouge and her green eyes pop underneath her dark, smoky makeup.

Oliver finally breaks the silence. "We need to talk…"

Her eyes flicker to the floor as her arms drop to her sides. Her eyes seem to soften as she lifts them to gaze up at him. Laurel takes a step towards him.

"In law school, they always teach that there's rarely coincidence...only circumstantial evidence," she rubs her lip together nervously and continues, "Horrible things happened to me and to Sara. Then, you asked me to give my father a phone as if you already trusted him. I was so overwhelmed with stress, and there was also my increased alcohol intake. I was so blinded by my own emotions and by the booze that I didn't make the connection sooner."

She balls her hands into fists, and then, relaxes them. Laurel is gazing directly at him when she asks, "Who are you and why are you protecting me?"

There is no point in hiding it from her any longer. Hiding his identity from her will never keep her safe, because she's completely committed to throwing herself in to danger now. _Just like he is_. This secret of his has only pushed him farther away, and he's now come to realize he needs her more than ever. Maybe he'll be able to keep this from his mother, Thea, and everyone else. But, this double life is driving him and Laurel apart.

He turns his voice changer off, and he draws back his hood. A sharp gasp escapes her red lips. Laurel's eyes dilate, and she almost trips when she takes a step back. " _Ollie?"_

Her eyes are watery, and he can see that it's taking everything to hold back the tears in her eyes. He steps towards her. Her breath is heavy as she looks up at him. A tears slips down her cheek, and he brushes it away with his thumb. His gloves hand lingers on her cheek for a moment before resting it on her shoulder.

"I've wanted to tell you everyday, Laurel," his voice is but a sharp whisper when he speaks. "I didn't want to put you in danger…"

She nudges closer to him, placing both her hands against his chest. Her head softly rests against him, and he wraps both arms around her. He strokes her back gently and her fingers clutch the leather gear covering his chest.

"I love you, Laurel…"

It's as if a weight has finally been lifted from him. For five years, he's been waiting to say those words to her. She's looking up at him. He cups the side of her cheek, and leans down to places a kiss against her lips. She returns his kiss, and he's never felt so alive in his life.

 _Dinah Laurel Lance - the prettiest girl in the whole damn world. He is so lucky._

…

 _ **AN:**_ _When I started this fic, I often got sassy reviews from an anon saying that Oliver would know that Laurel was The Black Canary. That was always the intention, because Oliver is too perceptive that her charade would not last long. I also felt that eventually Laurel would catch on a little bit to The Hood's patterns, but not suspect Oliver directly. It's kind of sad that this person made assumptions on where I was actually going with this._

 _The Vertigo_ " _not a chance" line was a direct diss at Olicity. I completely admit to it without any shame. The last line in the story is from the Injustice comics. It really captures how much Oliver really loves Dinah Laurel Lance. The show really dropped the ball on that one unfortunately to pander to the lower common denominator in the audience._

 _I'd also like to give you all another thank you. I wasn't sure originally if I'd commit to this, but I'm so glad that I finally got to this point. I'm not done with it yet. I still have a lot of ideas, and next chapter will have a ton of Lauriver in it. So, I still can't wait to see where this goes. Thank you again for all your PMs and reviews. All of you are so sweet, and it really awesome to here from each of you._


	14. Home

_**AN:**_ _So yay! This chapter is heavy with fluff and Lauriver stuff. Also there's some good Thea stuff in the mix as well. I used to some dialogue from 1x05 when Laurel and Ollie kiss. It's my all time favorite Lauriver scene (along with her shooting his bow in 2x22). So, I had to incorporate it in this story somehow._

 _I'm getting close to 100 reviews. I kind of want to do something special for you guys. So, whoever makes the 100 review gets to request a one-shot. If we have another fandom in common, you can request for that fandom too. There's a list of ships I really hate in my profile that I won't write for, but really I'm open to anything other than that._

 _ **A Caged Bird**_

 _Home_

They'd kissed at her apartment. There was a tender moment of silence where she had rested her head on his chest before finally saying, " _I don't want to be here tonight_." She'd been drinking - not to excess but enough that she couldn't drive. They'd agreed that Oliver would drive her car to his house. She'd grabbed a few pairs of extra clothes and offered Oliver the clothes that he'd left at her place before the boat accident.

It all feels like a vivid dream. The night that she was rescued by the vigilante - it was always Oliver. Sara used to watch this cartoon, Spider-Man. Laurel vaguely remembers it, but she remembers that his girlfriend was completely oblivious to his dual identity. She feels like a _superhero_ like the ones Sara had always looked up to.

Laurel can see a large mansion in the distance. It's been years since she's been down this road or even close to the Queen Mansion. There had been times that she'd thought to maybe just drive by, but the pain was too much. Years ago she never thought that Oliver would be driving her down this road again.

The car approaches the gates, and Oliver shifts the car into park. He exits the car and walks up to the gate to enter a code. The large steel gates part open, and Oliver walks back to the car. He slams the door shut and shifts the car into drive. The car rounds the cobblestone road around the courtyard till they reach the double front doors to his home.

Laurel steps out of her car and shuts the door behind her. She turns to gaze up at his home. It still feels so overwhelming, and it seems impossible that one family could have so much wealth. Oliver rounds the car to meet her. She follows him to the front door.

There's the sound of jingling keys as Oliver retrieves them from his pocket. He unlocks the door and holds the door open for Laurel. She steps passed him and gazes at the large room before her. It just seems so surreal to be _here_.

" _Laurel?_ "

Thea's eyes are full wide and full of all the compassion in the world. She's wearing light pink pajamas, and a soft sweet smile emerges on her lips. It's the perfect contrast to the intoxicated drunk teen she saw on her night out with Oliver.

"It's on the news," Thea says. "They finally got him."

Thea runs to Laurel and throws her arms around her. Laurel returns her brace momentarily, and then, Thea pulls away from her.

"Are mom and Walter home?" Oliver asks.

"Walter's at the office still," Thea says. "Mom's in the living room."

Laurel and Oliver follow Thea into the livingroom. Moira is sitting with a glass of white wine in her hand, her ash blonde hair and makeup perfectly primped even in the late hours of the night.

"Mom," Thea's voice is rich with excitement. "Ollie brought Laurel over."

Moira sets her glass of wine down on a coffee table. She rises with the perfect poise and class that she's always carried since Laurel first met her. She walks over to Laurel and brushes a strand of her hair from her face before resting it on her shoulder.

"It's been years since I last saw you," Moira says. "You still look just as lovely."

"Thank you, Mrs. Queen," Laurel says.

"There are no need for formalities Laurel," she says. "Please call me Moira."

Laurel lowers her gaze to the floor. She can't help but feel the string at the thought of her own mother abandoning her. She suppresses the thought and forces a smile.

"I'm glad…" Laurel pauses and nearly chokes on her own words. "I'm just glad my father was the arresting officer."

"Quentin has always been so protective of you and Sara," Moira compliments. "I've always admired that about your father."

Moira drops her hand from Laurel's shoulder. She walks passed her to Oliver and places her hand on his arm briefly. Then, she turns to Thea. "Well, I'm off to bed, and _you_ have school in the morning."

"But, mom, _Laurel_ …" she pleads.

"You'll have plenty of time to see Laurel after school tomorrow," Moira says. "But, I can't have you sleeping through your classes again."

Thea heaves a frustrated sigh before leaving the room.

"I'm a little bit tired too," Laurel says.

It's not entirely true. It's true that she's exhausted from the events that had transpired only hours before, but her body is still pumping with adrenaline. Several different emotions run through her, and her mind is still reeling from discovering Oliver's _secret_. No, she's not tired. She's just impatient to be with him and just say what's been building in her chest since Oliver revealed his identity to her.

Moira, Oliver, and Laurel all say their goodnights. Laurel wraps her arm in Oliver's. They ascend up a staircase, and Laurel feels a rush of deja vu when her and Oliver turn into the hallway towards his room. She steps towards the door, and her hands are shaking as she turns the knob. When she opens the door, she lets out a soft gasp.

It's been so long since she's been in Oliver's room that she's almost forgotten how it looked. Her fingers linger on the doorknob before finally stepping inside Oliver's room. A chill runs through her spine as it all becomes so real.

 _Oliver Queen,_ the first and only man she's ever loved, is the vigilante. Another chill runs through her as she remembers the night he rescued her from Count Vertigo's loft. It was Oliver who carried her out of there. It was Oliver who visited her after rescuing her from Sara from the Dollmaker. The night of the benefit, she'd kissed him. It was Oliver...it was always _Oliver_.

"I can't remember the last time I've been in this room," her voice seems so fragile when she speaks.

"I can. Halloween 2008. We were getting ready for Tommy's party."

"Ah, that night I wore those fishnets," Laurel says. "It's funny. They're the same ones I wore tonight."

She waits for Oliver to say something - _anything_. He doesn't. Laurel wraps her arms around herself as if to protect her own emotions. Her breath becomes shaky and turns around to face Oliver.

"That first year..." she chokes on a sob and tries to steady her breath. "I refused to believe that you were gone. My mom, my dad, and Sara...they all told me that I needed to let go. _I wouldn't let go._ I insisted to everyone. My family, my friends...Tommy."

Laurel relaxes her shoulders and drops her arms to her sides. Tears are brimming in her eyes that she refuses to let fall. Several different conflicting emotions are racing through her, and she's caught between each one of them. She turns to Oliver and closes the gap between them.

"I never gave up on you," she says. "Even when I thought I'd convinced myself you were dead, there was this fire in me that just knew you were alive."

"I thought about you every day on that island, Laurel. When I was tortured...when the wounds turned to scars...every bit of agony I felt...it was the thought of you that drove me to survive."

She glances at his soft blue button down shirt wondering what kind of scars he now wears. She sucks in a deep breath of air. Laurel's surprised that she can somehow hold her tears and is somehow holding herself together.

"Maybe I should have asked more questions. I was just so lost after…" Laurel voice breaks and a tear slips down her cheek. Oliver brushes it away with the back fingers. "I was so lost after _you_ saved me that I just couldn't think about anything but all the anger and pain. It's hard to ask this. I just need to see...I need to know what you've been through."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes…"

Oliver unbuttons his shirt. Laurel fingers shake as she touches the fabric of his shirt. She softly brushes both sides of his shirt apart to reveal an array of scars. There is what seems to be a star tattoo on his left pectoral and chinese letters running along the side of his right abdominal. Laurel gasps at the sight.

"How did you survive this?" she says in complete awe.

"There were times I wanted to die," he says. "In the end, there was something I wanted more."

She feels so light headed and her knees feel as if they'll give out beneath her. She can't take her eyes away from him, and she softly leans closer to him. His lips capture hers, and her hand gently touches the back of his neck. Her entire body feels so electric, and her hands are on his bare chest. His lips break away from her lips to kiss down her neck. His hot breath ignites a fire within her she hasn't felt in so long.

He pulls away from her and brushes a strand of her hair away from her face. He's looking her directly into her eyes, and it almost feels as if time itself has stopped. "Do you trust me, Laurel?"

"Yes…" she breathes.

His fingers unbutton the gold buttons of her white blouse. His hand cups her cheek as he dips to kiss her. She shrugs her blouse to the floor. She feels his hand against the small of her back, and she shivers as she presses herself against him. There is a part of her that doubts that she can do this, but there's another part of that wants him so much.

"Dinah Laurel Lance," his voice is a soft whisper. "The prettiest girl in the whole damn world. I must be the luckiest man alive…"

He kisses her. She leaps into his arms, and he carries her to his bed. Her hands touch his chest, and she can't stop looking up at him. She's scared. She has emotional scars that run so deep. She has every reason to run, but she doesn't.

Because, it's something she wants so much, and she won't let _anyone_ take that away from her.

…

Oliver stirs from his sleep. He glances at the clock on his nightstand. It's 7AM. He glances over at Laurel. She's still fast asleep. Oliver places a soft kiss on her forehead before climbing out of his bed.

He pulls on a pair of jeans and plain white t-shirt. He exits his bedroom and descends down the stairs. He enters the living room to see Raisa pouring Thea a cup of coffee.

"Coffee for you, Oliver?" she says in a thick accent.

"Yes, please," Oliver says.

Oliver takes a seat next to Thea as Raisa pours him a fresh cup of coffee. Thea's eyes are glued to their flat screen. A mugshot of Count Vertigo - now identified as James Warner - flashes on the screen. The news cuts to an overview of the warehouse that Laurel and Oliver raided last night.

"So, what happens now?" Thea asks.

"Laurel has to ID him at the police station today," Oliver says. "And after that, there will be legal proceedings."

"I just wish the vigilante would have killed him," Thea takes a sip of her coffee. "We'd be done with it, you know…"

 _Death would be too easy._ The pain he's going to be is far more satisfying than just ending it.

"So, are you two back together or what?" Thea asks.

"We are," he says.

Thea leans over to pour an insane amount of sugar into her coffee and sprinkles a plentiful amount of marshmallows into the mug. Caffeine, sugar, and Thea - it's a recipe for disaster. She's going to be bouncing all over the place. He grins. Maybe she'll actually stay awake in class for once.

"I never told you this, but I always liked her best of all," Thea says. "She's good for you, Ollie. She's not some spoiled rich girl or some bimbo model. Laurel's just... _Laurel_. She's humble, she's smart, and she cares about people."

Thea takes one last sip of the sugar bomb that used to be coffee. She sets the mug down and smooths out the pleats of her plaid skirt. She slings her backpack over her arm and rises. "Just _don't_ screw it up with her, Ollie."

Thea walks passed Oliver, leaving him alone in the with only the television set the keep him company. Oliver glances down at at the silver tray of coffee, marshmallows, and sugar. He takes an empty mug from the tray and repeats Thea's _recipe_ for Laurel.

He takes the mug in hand and makes his way back to his room. Laurel is still lying fast asleep. He doesn't want to wake her, because for once, she just looks so _at peace_. Oliver walks over to the bed and sets the coffee on the end table. He places his hand on her shoulder, and her eyes snap open.

She's smiling up at him and Oliver strokes her hair gently. "Hey."

"Hey," she says as she sits up.

The sheet spills off of her revealing nothing but flesh. He wants to climb up on top of her and repeat what happened last night. He resists and hands her the steaming mug of coffee.

"How are you feeling?" he asks.

"Nervous," she says with a deep sigh. "I don't want to go."

He looks her in the eye and strokes her cheek. "I know."

"But, I have to go," she says bitterly, "whether I like it or not."

"I can go with you," Oliver offers. "And, we can go anywhere you want after."

She makes a forced smile. Then, she sips the coffee. She makes a face and lowers her mug. "That's uh...that's really _sweet_."

Oliver smiles. "It's actually Thea's recipe."

"Wow," she says. "I suddenly understand where she gets her energy from."

Laurel sets her coffee back on the end table. Her eyes become distance and she rubs her lips together before finally saying, "There's so much I want to ask you about, Ollie."

Oliver looks into her eyes. It's like they're begging him to tell her each little detail. He wants to, but not yet…

"I want to tell you, Laurel. It's just the choices I had to make..."

Oliver pauses at the memories of Shado and Slade. He watched them fall so hard for each other, and he just still blames himself for so much. He remembers Ivo pointed the gun at a incapacitated Slade. He'd never meant to _pick_ Slade, but he'd rushed over in panic when the gun fell on him. If he'd known the Mirakuru would heal him, maybe he would have reacted differently.

"Ollie..."

Laurel's voice draws him back. He can't see Slade's anger. He can't even feel his regrets. All he can see is her.

"The things I saw on that island where things I wish I could forget. I just kept telling myself that I'd come back, and that I wouldn't lose you twice. That's how I survived."

He rises and places a kiss on Laurel's forehead. He pulls away and places a brief kiss directly on her lips. The taste of sugar still lingers on his lips. He wants to tell her, but he's just not ready.

"You'll never lose me, Ollie…"

She embraces him, and he holds her tightly. He's waited for this for so long, and it still doesn't exactly feel real. He expects himself up on that island or maybe even Hong Kong. But, no. He's here with Laurel Lance just like he'd always dreamed he would be. He's finally _home_.

…

 _ **AN:**_ _So, I had to slow it down a bit in this chapter, because I really wanted write Lauriver for you guys (also Thea being adorable). Next chapter it's going to pick up again. Ollie shows Laurel the Arrow Cave for the first time, and Green Arrow and Black Canary teaming up. :D_


	15. An End and a Beginning

_**AN:**_ _Sorry about the slow update. It took me awhile to be completely satisfied with this chapter. There are tons of Lauriver moments and some good Lance family moments as well._

 ** _A Caged Bird_**

 _An End and a Beginning_

Laurel's hands tense around the chrome door handle inside Oliver's Mercedes. She takes two deep breaths as she tries to devise any excuse not to go inside the police station. She knows exactly what process she's about to go through, because she's been on the other side of this with previous victims she's represented. A sharp feeling cuts through her stomach like a hot knife, and she takes her hand off the chrome handle.

"Just give me a minute…"

Laurel rests her head back against the leather seat. She sets her left hand on her arm rest. Oliver's warm hand covers the top of her hand, and it eases the skin crawling feeling that courses through her entire body. She imagined that it wouldn't be so hard. She would identify him and leave. She couldn't predict the flashbacks and reliving the entire three months she'd been held captive in her head. It's like she's been crushed underneath an invisible weight, and her chest is so constricted, she's amazed that she can still breath.

Laurel shifts in her seat to face Oliver. His sea green eyes are strained with worry. She wishes she could tell her she's fine and wash his worry away. Laurel's not that good of an actress and concealing her emotions has always been one of her weaknesses. If she could find a way to run from this, she'd run clear across the entire world if that's what it would take.

"I wish I didn't have to be here," she says.

She leans closer to him, shifting her hand from underneath his so that their fingers are now laced together. Her eyes drop from his, and she stares blankly at the upholstery of his car. There's this part of her that's in disbelief that he's alive and that he's the vigilante. She's relived her kidnapping and sexual assault several times. The memory of the first day still feels foggy from her first exposure to the drug that corrupted her mind. She still remembers that thought of Oliver that day. She remembers wishing that he was still alive. If only she knew...

Her fingers tighten around his hand, and she raises her gaze back to his. She leans in to kiss him. His free hand is on her cheek as they share a chaste kiss. When she pulls away, all she can think is that she doesn't want to leave this car. She's safe here. Once she leaves, she has to face everything, and it won't be the end. She'll have to see him again during trial. This won't end till he's finally convicted.

Oliver's thumb strokes her cheek. "We don't have to go in yet. We could go get coffee and come back."

"No," she whispers. "Let's just get it over with."

Laurel pulls away from him. Her fingers grip underneath the chrome door handle, and she pushes the door open. The cool fall air grazes her skin, and she shivers. Laurel grips the armrest on the door and swings her legs outside of the car.. Her fingers clutch the top of the door as she tries to steady herself into standing position. Her head is swimming, and Laurel feels as if she's about ready to pass out.

Laurel's eyes glance over at the cement steps, and then, to the double glass doors to the police station. She's been here so many times before with clients and to visit her dad. It shouldn't be so hard to walk through those doors, because she's done it so many times before.

Laurel waits for Oliver to make his way around the car. Her fingers are still tightly wrapped around the car door as if they were glued to it. Oliver takes one of her hands in his and slowly lifts it away from the car. He removes his hand from hers and raises it to brush a strand of her hair from her face.

"You can do this, Laurel," he encourages.

Laurel bites her bottom lip nervously and nods. She takes her other hand off the car door and closes it behind her. She takes one shaky step towards Oliver. Her eyes are starting to sting as she fights back the hot tears that are on the verge of escaping her. Her head is spinning, and she just can't seem think straight.

Something in her snaps. Laurel takes two meek steps forward and collapses into Oliver's chest. She's bawling her eyes out uncontrollably. Her knees buckle underneath her, and he catches her before she falls to her knees. She's never actually felt so out of control anymore. It feels like she's lost her damn mind and she's gone crazy.

"Laurel…"

It's the sound of Sara's voice that pulls her back from everything. The ground suddenly feels steady, and the constricted feeling in her chest starts to lighten. She lifts her head from Oliver's chest. Through her blurred, teary vision, she watches as Sara rummages through her purse. Sara withdraws a tissue and a black makeup pencil. Sara steps towards her and daps the tissue under her eyes. She's shushing her softly and stroking her hair as she wipes underneath her eyes and down her cheeks.

"Sara…" her voice is a coarse whisper as she speaks.

Sara takes the tissue away from her face and tosses the dirtied tissue into her purse. She takes the pencil and moves it across her eyelids. She puts the pencil back into her purse. Sara puts her arms around Laurel to form some kind of group hug between the three of them.

"Dad's inside with another detective," Sara says softly. "I came outside to see if you were here."

The sound of Sara's voice is soothing, and the look of compassion in her soft blue eyes seems to ease the whirlwind of emotions stirring inside her. It's strange how she can hear wind rustle the leaves and the sound of distant laughter from the sidewalk. It's almost as if Sara has pulled her back to the present where she's safe - a present where Oliver is alive and she's not some drug lord's captive.

The muscles in her arms relax. She releases her grip on Oliver's white button down shirt and steadies herself. She looks to Sara who's holding her hand out to her. Laurel takes her hand, and Sara wraps her arm around her shoulder. It's somehow a lot easier to walk up the cement steps, and walking through the glass door isn't as difficult as it seemed from Oliver's Mercedes. It's just easier with Sara.

There is the familiar chill of the AC that's always dialed up a little too high, and there's the distinct scent of bleached cleanliness that pervades the air. The last time she was here was the night Oliver rescued her. Laurel's stomach twists into knots and she feels her own anxiety crawl up her skin.

"Laurel Lance…"

Laurel raises her eyes to her former colleague, Joanna de la Vega. She is dressed in a royal blue pantsuit that perfectly complements her dark skin tone. It's been so long since she's been to work that she'd almost forgotten about everyone there. Seeing Joanna makes her life feel almost normal again and brings her back to a time before everything went to hell.

There's a sharp twisting feeling in heart. So long as Adam Donner is the hiring attorney, it's unlikely that she'll ever work there again. At first Laurel had believed it would smooth over, but she's now finding out that she may have to find another job. It's hard, because there are people like Joanna that she missed working with.

Joanna approaches her and holds out her hand. The two women briefly shake hands before Joanna says, "How are you holding up, Laurel?"

"I'm doing what I can," Laurel says in one exhausted breath.

"Everyone misses you at work," Joanna replies. "Minus Adam Donner of course."

"He's not going to rehire me, is he?"

"Not likely," Joanna informs. "But...there is another option. I don't know how you feel about criminal defense, but a colleague of mine is willing to hire you."

Joanna procures a black business card from her blazer. She hands the card to Laurel. The business card reads The Law Offices of Jean Loring in gold letters. Laurel's recalled several cases Adam Donner has blundered against this woman. Just the thought of possibly showing Donner up in the future lifts her spirits. Criminal Defense is not what she wants to do, but she's recognized at some point she needs to start working again. Her options right now are limited, and this could be something to do while waiting for a new opportunity.

"Thank you," she says.

"Anything for a friend," Joanna's smile fades as she pauses. "As much as I hate to ask this, there is a reason you're here. We do need your help in possibly identifying a suspect that was apprehended last night."

Laurel shoulders become stiff as anxiety runs through her. She can only nod in response before she turns back to Oliver and Sara. She needs the both of them now more than ever. She turns back to Joanna and breathes.

"Alright," she says. "Let's get it over with."

They follow Joanna through a hallway, and all Laurel can think of is the agonizing the sound of clicking high heels hitting the tile floor. It's strange that the simple sound would have such a grating sound on her when normally she would ignore it. She can hear the sounds of conversation between two men at a water cooler and the sounds of phones ringing from the central office. Her heart rate speeds up as her legs go numb.

She sees the door at the end of the hall. She knows where it leads, because she's been here several times before. Her head starts to spin again, and her stomach turns. Joanna reaches for a ring of keys. The jingling sound they make agitates her, and the sound of Joanna jamming them into the brass knob makes her feel as if she's going to vomit.

Joanna opens the door to a dark room. "Right this way, Laurel."

Laurel can feel each heavy beat of her heart. There's a ringing sound in her ears that she can't quite place, and she can barely feel each step she takes. Laurel enters the room to see a man in a police uniform sitting in front of an illuminated window. She hears the door close behind her, and she instinctively grabs Oliver's hand as her breath quickens.

Laurel swallows the imaginary lump in her throat as she raises her eyes to the window. A sharp feeling cuts through her heart when her eyes see Vertigo sitting next to a balding man dressed in a very expensive looking black suit. Sara's arm is around her shoulder, and it's taking every single bit of her strength not to fall apart.

"He can't see you," Joanna says.

Laurel has practiced law long enough to know it's a one way window, but it's still somehow reassuring to hear. It eases her anxiety just a little bit, and her hand tightens around Oliver's for extra support.

Laurel manages to look back through the mirror once more. Vertigo is spasming in his chair next to the balding defense attorney. Her father walks into the room with another detective. The steel folding chair emits a grating, scratching sound as her father drags it out from underneath the table. He tosses a beige folder onto the table and takes a seat on the chair.

Her father clears his throat. "We all know why you're here, Warner, and everyone in this room knows you're guilty."

"That is yet to be proven in court, detective," the attorney interjects.

Her father flashes a sardonic grin at the attorney. "I'm confident I have the evidence to get a conviction without even having Miss De La Vega offer you a plea bargain."

There's a cold silence between the four men in the room. Her father clears his throat as he thumbs through the folder. He takes three sheets of paper and sets them before Vertigo and his attorney.

"James Warner," her father begins. "You were arrested ten years ago with a prostitute. The file says you met her at the strip club she worked at. She was drug tested, and an unidentified substance was found in her blood. You served a year in prison for drug possession with intent to distribute and engaging in prostitution with Tiffany Thomas. You were put on supervised probation, but vanished into thin air two months after you were released from jail."

"What does this have to do with the case, detective?" the balding lawyer asks.

Her father scoffs and continues. "I have a theory that the compound found in Thomas's bloodstream years ago will be strikingly similar to vertigo."

"You do not have evidence," the defense attorney's voice is strong and aggressive. "Lance, you're allowing your own personal feelings to connect circumstances that are not linked even in the slightest."

"Okay then, maybe I am," her father tone is arrogant and condescending. "Maybe not. We'll find out soon enough. You see, I have this sinking feeling that Warner has connections in my department including in forensics. I can't take any chances for the evidence to be blemished by some paid off lowlife. I sent the saved sample from Tiffany Thomas, a sample of my daughter's blood taken the night of her rescue along with both Vertigo and your sick mind control drug to Central City instead."

Vertigo wraps his arms around himself and starts to spasm as her father's narrowed eyes fall onto him. "I have a good feeling about this Barry Allen fellow, and I'm confident I'll have all the evidence I need by next week."

"Again, all of this is coincidence," the lawyer says. "You're allowing your emotions to blind you, Lance."

Her father scoffs as he rises his seat. He exits the room and closes the door behind him with a loud slam.

The sound of Joanna's voice pulls Laurel back. "Laurel, I understand that you were under the influence of V the three months he held you captive, and it's possible your memory was polluted by the substance. Does James Warner resemble Count Vertigo in…"

"It's him," Laurel interrupts. "I'm sure of it."

Light spills into the room and her father enters the room. She feels Sara's arm lift from her shoulder, and Laurel turns slightly to face her father.

"Sweetie," he says. "You saw all of that?"

Laurel nods softly.

"Laurel baby, I'm so sorry. I didn't think…"

"It's okay dad," she says. "You were doing your job."

Her father pulls his eyes away from her and he glances to Oliver. "Oliver Queen…"

"Mr. Lance," Oliver says in acknowledgement.

Her father's eyes glance downward at her hands interlaced with Oliver's and he raises his eyes to the both of them. "Oh…oh um, it's good to see you here. I really appreciate that you could um help out I guess."

Watching her father stumble through his words alleviates the tension. It's odd, because she's always remembered him to be standoffish towards Oliver. Her father being sort of accepting of Oliver is something she never thought she'd see.

"I have a lot of work to do," her father says. "I'm really sorry, sweetie."

"I understand," she says.

"Tomorrow - you, me, and Sara," he pauses as his eyes fall on Oliver. "And, you too, Oliver. We should all have dinner. It can be like a family thing."

"That would be nice, Mr. Lance," Oliver replies.

"I'll see the three of you tomorrow, then," it's a statement rather than a question.

"I look forward to it," Oliver says.

Oliver guides Laurel towards the door, and Laurel manages to say "bye dad" over her shoulder.

"Take care, sweetie."

Sara closes the door behind them. There is this still quietness. The weight seems to lift from her once more. It's over - at least for now. It'll more than likely be a month before she has to make a court appearance. She can relax for a little bit.

"I...actually have work," Sara says.

"I didn't know you had a new job," Laurel feels selfish as she speaks. She'd been so consumed in her own self that she'd forgotten about her family.

"It's a bartending job downtown," Sara says. "It's not much, but maybe I can save enough to go back to school. I'll see you tomorrow, Laurel. You too, Ollie."

"Good luck at work, Sara," Oliver says. "It was good to see you."

Sara walks passed Laurel and Oliver with a final wave. There's a moment of stillness between Oliver and Laurel. There's one place she can think of to go. It's a place she's sure she's never been before, but she's always wanted to go.

"Oliver," she says. "Where do you go when you…"

Her voice trails off as she remembers where she's at. Her eyes catch a camera above them mounted where the wall and ceiling meet. Laurel glances up at Oliver searching his eyes in some attempt to convey exactly what she's asking.

"You said we could go anywhere I want," she says. "Take me there."

He takes her hands in his. "It's actually at Verdant."

…

It's almost unreal to walk through Verdant during closing hours. There's no noise, no people - it's just there. Laurel glances around the club. It feels so much larger and taller when it's vacant. She approaches the main bar and leans against the empty countertop.

"Did you want something to drink?" Oliver asks.

"I was thinking about it," Laurel says.

Her eyes scan over shelves of liquor behind the bar. It's tempting. She lowers her eyes and reminds herself why she came here. She didn't come here to day drink at her boyfriend's nightclub.

"So, do you just hide out in your office here?" she asks. "I kind of imagined it to be a little different - like maybe you were hiding in some secret hideout."

Oliver laughs at her description. "It's actually in the basement."

"So, you have an underground lair, then?" Laurel jokes.

She follows Oliver around the bar. There's a steel door at the end of the hallway. Oliver enters a series of numbers on a nearby keypad. There a soft clicking sound. Oliver pulls the door open, and Laurel walks passed him into the dark room.

Oliver flips the lights on, illuminating the dusty, dark basement. Laurel's eyes survey the clutter until her eyes fall on his workspace. There's a steel table with a laptop on top. Her eyes move from the table to a tall metal pole on what appears to be some sort of ladder. Laurel has never seen anything quite like it before, but she's guessing that it's probably some odd sort of workout machine.

Laurel steps down the ramp to the floor. The room is littered with random clutter, but still, it feels so empty.

"It's funny...I'd been so caught up in this idea of who I thought the vigilante was. I expected to wake up...to find out this is all a dream because…" she pauses. "I wanted to know you, to be like you, and to think that it was always you. It just seems too perfect to be real."

She turns away from him, and her eyes fall on his bow. She's steps towards the table, and her hands graze over it gently. She finally takes the handle in in her left hand and lifts it from the table. Laurel takes an Arrow in her right hand and draws it against the bow. She aims at the target. She's seen people fire arrows on television, and she seen Oliver fire it as The Hood. Somehow she knows it's a lot more complicated than Oliver makes it look.

She feels Oliver places his fingers on hers. His left hand covers hers to readjust the bow. "Center your feet."

Laurel adjusts her feet as instructed. He drops his hand to her hip, and Laurel straightens her shoulders against him.

"You're going to want to release your fingers at the same time," Oliver instructs.

"Okay," Laurel breathes.

She hesitates for a few moments. She steadies her arms and focuses on the target. Laurel mentally counts to three and releases the arrow. She hears it connect with the target. It's not even close to the bullseye. In fact, she barely shot the arrow inside the target. Still, it's better than a complete miss.

"Nice shot," Oliver compliments.

Laurel feels a warm feeling of pride run through her. She sets the bow against the table and turns back to Oliver. She wraps her arms around his neck and smiles. It feels so familiar but different. There's the distant memory of a love from five years passed, but also all the pain that's transpired within five years of his disappearance. Then, there is the present, and it's hard to make out what this is supposed to be.

"I want to help," Laurel says.

Oliver's eyes harden and his breath hitches. She can practically feel the tension in the air, and he finally says, "I spent years fighting for my life. I learned how to survive...to kill if necessary. Laurel, you're not a killer."

"I don't have to kill to see results, Oliver," she argues.

"Sometimes it's the only choice you have," his voice breaks and she can see so much pain in his eyes. "I don't want to put you in a position where you'll have to make that choice. You have no idea how much changes when you take a life for the first time. It's something you can never come back from."

Laurel clenches her fists tightly. Heat flares through her heart. She wants to argue, because it shouldn't be his choice to make. She releases the tension in her fists. This could dissolve into a heated argument if she lets it, but she won't allow it. It's been less than a day since he revealed his identity to her. It would be too much to start a fight so soon.

"Oliver…" she makes sure to keep her voice soft as she speaks. "I know you think you're protecting me, but I need to learn to protect myself. That and Sara, I need to be strong enough to protect her too. The day she was kidnapped, I felt so powerless and terrified. I don't ever want to feel like that again."

She's not sure what she expects him to say. She searches his eyes for something. He takes his eyes away from hers, and his body language says so much about how resistant he is to this.

"Laurel…" his voice is weary and hesitant. "You are extremely lucky that nothing happened to you last night or the night before. The vaccine had a side effect, and that ability you have has probably kept you alive."

"Is that how it happened?" Laurel voice is just above a whisper.

"Tommy's father gave them to Tommy, and Tommy passed them on to me," Oliver says. "Thea, my mom...me...we were fine. You're the only one that was affected."

Laurel wraps her arms around herself. Her breath slows as her mind tries to process everything Oliver has just told her. There's so much she still doesn't understand about her ability. If only she knew of someone that could help her understand.

She pushes that all behind her. "Oliver, if you want to me to be safe, maybe instead of trying to shelter me from everything...maybe instead you could teach me to defend myself."

There's reluctance in his eyes at first. She almost expects him to decline her request immediately. She reaches out to him and cups his cheek with her hand. "Things here are different than you left them. This city isn't safe for me or anyone anymore. Maybe it never was…"

He studies her for a moment. "Alright...since you probably won't listen to me anyways. I'll train you."

Laurel heart swells. She smiles up at him. She stands on her toes and throws both arms around his neck. "I'm so glad it was you, Ollie."

…

 _ **AN:**_ _I originally wrote this chapter with Sara sort of in the background, but I felt like it would mean more to explore their sisterly bound. I think that Katie Cassidy and Caity Lotz had a lot of chemistry on screen that was never explored to its full potential. Also, I loved writing the second draft. The first draft was sort of a pain in the ass and there was a lot I didn't like about it. I'm glad I took the time to look over and rewrote this chapter this time around. Thanks again for all your reviews. It really keeps me motivated to hear from all of you._


	16. Family Dinner

_**AN:**_ _Yay! I updated! Anyways, most of what I want to say in my notes is at the end of the chapter. Also, thank you all again for your comments. You guys really make me smile. Also to the user that replied saying how tragic last chapter was and shared your personal experience. You are a wonderful and brave person. I'm glad my writing could connect with you. Stay strong, pretty bird._

 _ **A Caged Bird**_

 _Family Dinner_

Today is Oliver's chance to make a good impression on Quentin Lance, and he doesn't want to squander it like he has so many times before. He checks his overpriced wrist watch. They still have time before meeting up with Sara and Quentin. Oliver can hear the sound a blow dryer from inside his bathroom. Laurel is still in the process of getting ready, and he decides to use this spare time to do a little bit of vigilante work.

Oliver opens his laptop and clicks the icon for Mozilla Firefox. He searches through news websites for criminal activity in Starling City. Now that Count Vertigo is in police custody, he can return to his original mission - the names in his father's book. There's one headline that stands out Crime Families Clash. He clicks the link to the article and skims through it. There are several details about Italian and Chinese warring crime families, and that there is a mafia hitman slaying high level members of the Triad.

Chien Na Wei comes to mind. He remembers her ruthless voice, her cold blooded eyes, and most of all the platinum blonde dye job she had done to her hair. Amanda Waller wanted her dead even at the expense of others. Maseo, Tatsu, and Akio come to mind. It hurts to think about that painful memory, and perhaps in ending Chien Na Wei's crime syndicate, Oliver might be able to deliver justice to that family.

He lowers the lid to his laptop. He laces his fingers together and leans his elbows against his desk as several thoughts sift through his mind. What exactly does Frank Bertinelli have against the Triads? There's a possibility that both crime families are trying to take control of what Count Vertigo left behind. It seems early, and the killings seem a little bit too sloppy to be a war for territory.

Oliver glances over his shoulder to see Laurel drwessed in a dark blue pair of jeans and a blue plaid shirt. It's simple, but the look suits her well. He rises from his desk and moves towards her.

"You look nice," he compliments.

"Thank you," she beams up at him.

There is a knock at the door. Oliver goes to the door and opens it to see his mother on the other side. She's dressed in a cream white dress with her hair and makeup down to perfection.

"Walter and I will be attending a benefit tonight," his mom says as she adjust the collar on his shirt. "We won't be home till late. Please tell Mr. Lance I said hello."

His mother takes her hands from her collar and looks passed Oliver towards Laurel. Her gaze moves back towards Oliver. "I always like who you are when you're around her, Oliver. You two have fun tonight."

It had never occurred to him that Moira approved of, Laurel - at least not to this degree. He smiles down at his mother. His mom sets her perfectly manicured hand on his shoulder briefly before turning back down the hall. There's a flutter of happiness in his heart, because everything just seems so peaceful. There's still his father's list, and he's sure that there were be many trials to come. Still, he can count so many blessings. His mother and sister are alive and safe. He's reconciled his relationship with Laurel, and her father is actually starting to accept him. There's Tommy who seems to be doing well working for his father's company and has actually set aside his spoiled party boy lifestyle to grow into a man worthy of being the heir to his father's company.

He'd left on The Queen's Gambit taking everyone for granted. To have all his family, friends, and the woman he loves all accept him seems like a miracle he never actually believed possible. He's glad that he ran into that stranger that day - whomever he was. He's thankful he headed the stranger's advice and never took Sara on that death trip. The guilt might have destroyed him and caused an irreparable rift between him and Laurel.

"Ollie..." Laurel's voice pulls him back to the present.

He turns towards Laurel. She's looking up him with her deep green eyes. "Pretty bird…"

Laurel lips part slightly as she takes in a soft breath. Her eyes dilate as she looks up at him. He steps towards her and touches her forearm lightly. Her breath is quicker as his hand trails up her arm to her cheek. His thumb brushes across her cheek lightly. He sees her in her fishnets and leotard. He can mentally see himself slowly undress her, kissing her, and touching her. He wants to let his responsibilities go, carry her to his bed, and fuck her till the sun comes up.

Oliver withdraws his hand from her cheek. He can still feel the sexual tension connecting between them, and he almost acts on it. Oliver reminds himself of the commitment they had both made to have dinner with Quentin and Sara. He can't break those plans. The moment he set foot on US soil, Oliver made a vow to change. He wouldn't allow himself to revert to the person he once was. That Oliver Queen died the night the Queen's Gambit sank.

Oliver manages a smile and says, "We should get going."

Laurel nods to him as she glances to the floor. She's biting her lip, and he can vaguely see desire under her hooded eyes. His heart beat escalates, and his eyes fall onto her legs in her tight jeans. After dinner, he thinks to himself as he reminds himself to be patient.

It takes every ounce of self-control to peel his eyes away from her and pivot towards the door. He moves outside the open door into the hallway, repressing the sexual energy crawling through him. He rounds the corner and moves down the staircase as Laurel follows closely behind him.

Oliver catches the sound of loud music, groans, and snapping teeth from the living room. What in god's name is Thea watching? Oliver walks into the living room to see Thea sitting on the couch with a bowl of popcorn in her hands. His eyes move from Thea to the screen. A man in a sheriff's uniform is aiming his gun at a decaying body.

"What the hell are you watching?" Oliver cracks a smile as he leans on against the doorway.

"Walking Dead," Thea says. "Everyone watches it. The new season airs this weekend, and I wanted to start from the beginning again before the season premiere."

Oliver glances back to the TV to see a swarm of decaying bodies moving towards the sheriff and what appears to be his son. The subject matter of the show is something he never thought his sister would watch, but it's much preferred than her spending the night drunk with the dirtbag crowd she's been hanging around.

"Where are you guys going?" Thea asks.

"We're having dinner with Laurel's family," Oliver replies. "You can text me if you need anything."

"Okay, well, have fun," Thea says absentmindedly as the TV captures her attention once more.

Oliver turns to the main entrance. He exits the double doors and goes to his car. He vaguely recalls John Diggle as he approaches his Mercedes. It hasn't been too long since Diggle quit, and at the time, he was glad for it. It made his life as a vigilante far easier when he didn't have Diggle shadowing him. He wouldn't go as far to say he misses the man, but Diggle was a nice enough person. He also gave impartial advice when Oliver needed an unbiased opinion.

Oliver rounds the front of his car to open the passenger side door for Laurel. She says a small thank you to him before stepping inside the car. Oliver goes to the driver's side and opens the door. He sits opposite of Laurel and closes the door behind him. Quentin had agreed to meet at a burger place downtown. It seemed simple enough. Oliver places his keys in the ignition and starts up the car. He shifts the car into drive and speeds off into the night.

…

The place they agreed to meet is a small burger joint called Big Belly Burger. Oliver has never even heard of the place, but he understands that it's probably more in Quintin's price range than the ritzy five star restaurants that he's accustomed to dining at. There is brief small talk at their table before their food hits the table.

Oliver is surprised by the quality of the food despite how inexpensive it is. It's a simple burger, but it actually tastes quite good. Oliver's eyes catch Diggle at the front counter speaking to their waitress on the other side of the counter. Their eyes meet briefly before Diggle purposely avoids eye contact with him. Oliver's eyes pull away from Diggle and back to Quentin's.

"How has work been, Mr. Lance?" Oliver asks.

"It's been crazy. We have a gang war between the Italians and the Triads that's about to get ugly," Quintin says. "We've got our own personal Batman now just like Gotham except this guys dressing up like Robin Hood instead of wearing a bat suit."

"Actually, Gotham has a really interesting history regarding the Batman vigilante," everyone's gaze falls onto Sara who takes a sip from her coffee mug. "After meeting the Starling City vigilante, I wanted to know more. So, I started researching and Batman really stands out. Do you guys remember the whole scandal with Gotham City's elected district attorney Harvey Dent ten years ago?"

Oliver glances over to Laurel who is shifting in her seat uncomfortably as her eyes glance over at Sara. "It was all over the news in high school. There were tons of wild theories until the truth was released. One of my law professors also mentioned him in a lecture. The reason he turned to crime was because he his fiancé was murdered by some crazy serial killer. He blamed the vigilante and a police detective. It's all really strange. I don't remember a lot of the names or details, but I do remember Harvey Dent thought - police detective was in cahoots with Batman or something like that.

"That's not exactly all of it," Sara says. "Harvey Dent blamed the police detective and the Batman vigilante for not saving his fiancé from one of the Joker's games. Dent kidnapped the police detective's wife and eighteen year old daughter in his scheme for vengeance. Dent was stopped by Batman and a young police officer named Richard Grayson. Grayson was also the arresting officer of both Dent and the infamous serial murderer, the Joker, that same night. Grayson starting dating the police detective's daughter and almost married her actually. It's interesting how all of these individuals in Gotham were tied to the Batman, and it makes me wonder if they meant something to the man behind the mask. I think we get so excited to hear about the Starling City vigilante on the news that we all forget that there's a man under the hood."

There is an awkward beat of silence at the table before Quintin finally clears his throat and says, "That's some pretty interested research you did, Sara. I'd ask you to join the force, but you know I feel about my babies putting themselves in the line of fire."

"You should send me some of the things you're reading, Sara," Laurel says. "I never really thought much to compare our vigilante to Gotham's Batman. I mean, Batman has a longer history than The Hood. It would be interesting to read about the character considering how much has happened with our family."

"You two don't get any ideas," Lance interjects to Sara and Laurel. "Leave the crime fighting to the police. Batman and The Hood still act outside of the law…"

The melodic sound of Quintin's cellphone's interrupts him. Quintin glances at the contact on the screen, "I'm sorry. It's work. I have to take this."

Quintin scoots out of the booth and walks outside of the restaurant. There is a brief period of silence before Sara leans forward and says, "Dad would kill me if he heard me say this, but I feel safer knowing there is a vigilante out there doing whatever it takes to protect the people of this city. He's done so much for you and I, Laurel. I think dad knows it too, but he doesn't want to put his job on the line by admitting it. I kind of wish I knew who the vigilante is."

Laurel takes a sip of her Diet Coke, and Oliver can practically feel the awkward vibes coming off of her. Everyone at the table knows the truth but Sara, and there's this uncomfortable aura shrouding the table.

There's a mischievous grin on Laurel's face as she sets her glass of soda back on the table. "Well, whoever he is...he must be the bravest man in Starling City."

Laurel glances over at Oliver momentarily with a playful grin on her lips. Then, turns her eyes back to Sara. Sara sips on her coffee and giggles, "I bet he's really handsome. If I knew who he was…"

As Sara's voice trails off Laurel's eyes narrow, he can see slight jealousy cross her features and he sees a hint of sibling rivalry. "Remember what dad said, Sara. Don't get any ideas."

"Jeez, Laurel," Sara says. "I wasn't being serious."

Quintin comes back to the table and let's out an exasperated sigh. "I got to go to work. The Triads are kicking up shit, and unfortunately duty calls."

"It was good to see you, Mr. Lance," Oliver says.

"You too, Oliver," he says. "I like this man you've become. It's refreshing new look compared to the frat boy you used to be."

"Thank you, Mr. Lance."

Quentin smiles at him. "Come on, Sara. I got to get you home before I save the world."

Sara slides out of the both. Quintin takes the check off the table and rummages through his pocket for his wallet before Oliver stops him. "I'll get the check."

"You sure?" Quentin asks.

"Hey," Oliver cracks a smile. "What's 50 bucks to a guy like me?"

Quintin chuckles at his comment. "Well, I appreciate it. You too get home safe."

"Bye dad," Laurel says. "And, be careful tonight."

"I always am," Quintin grins.

Oliver sets a fifty dollar bill down on the table along with a generous twenty dollar tip. There is a brief moment of silence between the both of them. Laurel shifts in her seat and puts her hand on Oliver's thigh.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" she says in an excited whisper.

"You sure you want to do this?" Oliver asks.

"As long as you come with me," she whispers.

Both of them slide out of the both. Laurel is grinning ear to ear as they make their way out of the restaurant, and Oliver can't help but grin back at her. He takes her hand and she lets out a giggle as they race to his car. He wraps his arms around her waist and presses her against the passenger's side of his Mercedes.

"Dinah Laurel Lance," he says. "Always trying to save the world."

"Hey, if I don't try to save it, who will?"

...

 _ **AN:**_ _So, next chapter, the action is going to be intense again. We'll have Oliver and Laurel fighting together against the Triads. About the Gotham exposition in this chapter. I'm basing a lot of the characters on The Dark Knight trilogy. I know I might have a lot of readers that liked Jared Leto in Suicide Squad, but I preferred Heath Ledger's take on the character. Dick Grayson is loosely based off of Joseph Gordon Levitt's role in The Dark Knight Rises (I wish they didn't rename Dick Grayson's character John Blake in the movie, but everything else I liked). Most of the Batman characters aren't going to appear till after The Undertaking, but I plan to use the characters in a two chapter Gotham arch that happens shortly after the Undertaking. There are a lot of parallels I feel with Bruce having to choose between Rachel and Harvey just like the situation with Slade that would fit my version of season two. But anyways, thank you all for your reviews. I always love hearing from you all. Also, are there any Batman characters or elements from Batman you'd like to see? Let me know._


	17. The Huntress

_**AN:**_ _Sorry for the delayed update. Arrow got exhausting for me for awhile, and I needed a break from the fandom. This chapter is short since it's more or less a preparation for Helena's return. There's also lots of protective Ollie-ness in this chapter. :D Anyways..._

 _ **A Caged Bird**_

 _The Huntress_

"Tell your leader that Frank Bertenelli sends his regards…"

Helena rises to her feet, a surge of power running through her core. It's becoming like a high now - killing and vengeance. She thinks of Laurel. She thinks of reading of Count Vertigo's arrest. Perhaps, if Michael still lived, she could be more like Dinah Laurel Lance. It's almost admirable - to be able to let someone so awful live. What could have possibly gone through Laurel's mind to be so merciful to a man that stole so much from her?

Maybe she could have been more like Laurel in another life. But, it's too late now. Helena has ignited a war with her father and the Triads. He will be ruined, and she will finally have her revenge.

…

The sudden rise in Triad related crime has Oliver confused. Chien Na Wei had been rather decile since his return - at least long enough that he would have time to deal with Vertigo. Oliver sifts through another article related to Triad activity. There is a motive behind these killings, and he's going to find out the source of it.

Oliver glances over to his bed. Laurel is still fast asleep. She has a job interview later today with Jean Loring. His mother had mentioned that the two were well acquainted, and that she would put in a good word on top of the recommendation Joanna had made for Laurel. Oliver smiles. New work will be good for Laurel. She's always been so passionate about her job, and she'll be back to doing what she loves. It'll be a fresh new start with coworkers that will hopefully appreciate her more than the ones at the District Attorney's Office.

The door to his room flies open, and Thea darts into his room still dressed in her pajamas. She's been happier since Laurel has been spending more time over. The drunken episodes have been less frequent, and even one of her teachers had made a call to their mother about improved behavior in class.

"Laurel isn't dressed yet," Oliver says. "Next time knock."

He rises from his desk, guiding Thea outside of the room. He shuts the door behind him.

"Oh, you guys did…"

" _Thea_ ," Oliver's voice is clipped.

"Okay, yeah," she says. "Sorry."

They walk through the hall and down the staircase. There's a green tree in the center of the room and several boxes scattered across the room. It's already December. He's been so caught up in his vigilante life and just being with Laurel that he's lost track of time. There's a knock on the front door. Oliver's eyebrows raise. He goes to the front door to see Tommy standing behind it, face white as a ghost.

"Tommy?" Oliver steps aside, gesturing for his best friend to come inside. "What's going on?"

"It's Helena…"

"I thought you stopped seeing her," Oliver tenses just at hearing the woman's name. If Helena's out there somewhere, there's no doubt that Laurel will be drawn back to her like a moth to a flame.

"I have," he says.

"Then, why is she even an issue?"

"It not so much of an issue," Tommy runs his hand through his hair nervously. "But, I've been keeping tabs, you know."

"No, I don't know, Tommy!" Oliver snaps. "She almost got you killed, and the last thing you should be doing is worrying about whatever the hell she's doing!"

Oliver sees the hurt look on Tommy's face and instantly regrets his sudden outburst. Thea approaches Oliver and Tommy. Her face is full of confusion, and the last thing he wants is to worry his sister. Oliver draws in a deep breath and expels it into the air.

"Let's take a walk," Oliver suggests before turning to Thea. He sets his hand on her shoulder briefly and says, "I'll be back in a minute."

"But…" Thea protests.

"Thea...," his voice is stern. "This is something between Tommy and I, okay?"

Thea rolls her eyes at him. Oliver ignores it and turns back to Tommy. They exit the mansion. Both walk until they reach the grave markers for both his father and himself. Oliver stops for a moment, looking to his father's grave stone. He couldn't save his father, but he can damn well protect his friends. He places both hands in his jean pocket, waiting for Tommy to finally speak.

"There's these random murders," Tommy says. "Everyone thinks that they're all Triad related, but I don't think so. There are reports that a woman was said to carry out these murders, and the day of I was kidnapped...all that stuff with Helena. What if it's her? Do you think she has that kind of ability to just take out several members of her father's family single handedly."

" _Yes_ ," Oliver's tone is clipped. "Which is why you need to stay away from her Tommy."

"I haven't spoken to her since that day," Tommy is defensive.

"Then, keep it that way," Oliver snaps.

"Hey!" Tommy says. " _Look Oliver_ , I haven't seen her since the day I was kidnapped, okay! Stop being such a dick for two seconds!"

"I'm trying to protect you, Tommy. After what happened to Laurel with Vertigo and Sara with that crazy ass Dollmaker prick - then the first time you were drawn into Helena's bullshit…" Oliver pauses and takes a deep breath. "I don't want to see someone I care about get hurt again, and I'm going to do everything I can to stop that from happening. Think about your father and how hard it would be lose you. Think about how I would feel...and Laurel, and Thea! Just stay away from her, Tommy. _Please._ "

Oliver turns away from Tommy and walks through the yard. He sucks in another deep breathe of air. His muscles are tense. If Tommy's theory is true, he'll have to tell Laurel. His stomach twists into knots just thinking about it. She's still so defensive of Helena, and the last thing he wants is Laurel drawn into Helena's chaos.

He pulls the door open to the mansion. Thea is sitting on the stairs, waiting for him. She's eying him suspiciously. Oliver is still rattled from his conversation with Tommy. All he wants is to just retreat to his room and lay next to Laurel. He wants to forget all about Helena Bertinelli, and just have one normal day for once.

"Who is Helena?" Thea asks.

"I really don't want to talk about this right now," Oliver responds.

"Why?" she snaps. "I thought we were done with secrets, Ollie."

"Thea," Oliver tenses. "I can't really explain all of this."

"I'm worried about Tommy, Ollie!" Thea shouts.

"I am too, Thea," he says. "And, I'd like to know that I don't have to worry about you too. So, please, just drop it."

Thea is glaring at him, and he's almost snaps at her again.

"Ollie…" Oliver looks up and sees Laurel at the top of the staircase. She takes two steps down. "What's going on?"

"It's…" Oliver pauses momentarily. He looks to Thea, and then back to Laurel. "Can I talk to you in private?"

Thea crosses her arms as she glares to Oliver. "Of course, so you can just go and keep secrets from me with Laurel."

She turns on her heel and retreats to the living room. Oliver goes up the staircase. He's two steps away from Laurel. He had hoped he could wait to tell her until after her interview, but now, he really doesn't have much of a choice. Oliver's hand clutches the railing of the staircase. He looks Laurel directly in her green eyes. It takes him a moment, but he finally speaks.

"It's Helena," Oliver says. "She's killing people, Laurel."

"She wouldn't kill anyone for no reason," Laurel says. "I know you don't like her, but…"

"She's killing people from her dad's _business_ ," Oliver says. "I know what happened with Michael, but she's starting a gang war. Innocent people are going to get caught up in the chaos she's causing, and people are going to get hurt if she doesn't stop."

Laurel is quiet. Her eyes lower to the floor. "We'll have to stop her, won't we?"

Oliver can't even speak. All he can do is nod.

"I can't go to Barbara," she says. "Helena is a friend of hers. _But,_ maybe my dad knows something about her father. We can start there."

Her words are filled with uncertainty, and it makes Oliver nervous. If they come face to face with Helena, Oliver isn't sure how Laurel will handle herself. "Maybe, I should do this one alone."

"No," Laurel's voice hardens. "I have to do this, Ollie. If there's even a chance that we can stop her from whatever downward spiral she's going down, I want to be there."

"Alright," Oliver agrees. "See if your dad knows anything. I'm going to see if I can find anything on my computer."

Laurel nods. Their eyes meet, and Oliver hopes that Laurel will be able to handle however this situation ends.


	18. Birds of a Feather

_**AN:** Anyways, another update from me! There are notes at the end of the chapter! Thank you all again for reading!_

 ** _A Caged Bird_**

 _Birds of a Feather_

Laurel isn't used to being in Oliver's underground lair yet. It feels like a whole separate world. It is hard for her to remember a time when Oliver was just Oliver Queen instead of the Hood. She had loved them both. Oliver being her childhood sweetheart, but the Hood was a symbol of strength she latched onto after her rescue. Seeing them as one is surreal, but also _so perfect._ When she goes back through her memories, it makes so much sense for Oliver to be the vigilante. The timing of his return, the interactions they had, the way he connected so well with her father on the field - it was always so blatantly obvious that Oliver Queen was the man under the green hood.

Oliver is typing on his laptop, searching for answers to where Helena might be. Laurel walks towards him with both arms crossed. A playful grin emerges on her face as their eyes meet. "Did it ever occur to you that I might have some insight? We are - _were_ \- friends."

Oliver rises from the laptop and stands straight. He looks to her brow furrowed as he grins back to her. " _Alright…"_

"Her prime target is her father," Laurel explains. "He murdered her fiancé. If she's the one inciting a gang war, she's doing it to put a target on her father's back."

"Whatever she's planning will likely happen at her father's home," Oliver says.

Laurel glances at her watch. It's almost seven in the morning, and the last thing she wants is to be late for her first day at work. "I have work, _but_ we can make our plans after you pick me up."

Oliver approaches Laurel. He takes her arm in his as they walk up the ramp and back into the empty nightclub. Laurel glances at a bottle of Pinot Noir. She thinks to a time in her life where she had to drink to forget, but now the temptation is so far from her. She has a new job, she has her family, she has Oliver, and she has her alter ego as _Black Canary_. The pain is still there, but not like it was before. Each day it becomes easier, and maybe one day it won't hurt at all.

…

Tommy scrolls through another article on a Triad related killing. His hands are shaking as he breathes in a deep breath. Oliver had told him to stay away from Helena. _He's right_. There is no logical reason he should be around her, but Tommy can't just let it go. If he could just see her one more time, maybe he can talk some sense into her.

Tommy closes his laptop and leans back into his chair. His father has trained him for the passed five years. He is capable in defending himself better than most men can. If Oliver knew what he was capable of…

Tommy leans forward, placing both hands on the mahogany desk. If he could just find her… _but where_? Tommy thinks back to all of his interactions with her all the way to their kidnapping. Helena had ratted off her father to the Feds to get at him. She's targeting him. _She'll be at his house_ , Tommy thinks. Eventually she will come back home to finish him off. If the cops get there first or worse she makes a fatal mistake…

Tommy rises from where he stands. He pulls open his desk draw and takes two pistols from it. He'll watch her father's house till she shows. Maybe, just maybe, he can stop her from destroying her life.

…

Oliver and Laurel had agreed that they should watch Frank Bertenelli's house from Oliver's car. Laurel grabs a couple of fries and pops them into her mouth. Laurel washes them down with a sip of coffee. She's tense. The last thing she wants to do is fight Helena. Helena was once someone Laurel considered a friend. To fight her would set off a whole new level of emotions within her.

There is movement - a blonde woman and several men. Oliver growls and utters a name."Chien Na Wei."

They wait till Chien Na Wei and her men climb the brick fence and into Frank Bertenelli's yard. Oliver and Laurel exit the car at the same time. Laurel follows Oliver to the fence. Oliver leaps up in one easy jump. His hands hand catches the top of the fence. It takes Laurel two attempts till she grips the top of the fence. It's easier to pull herself up than she imagines it would be. She follows Oliver and leaps off the top of the fence and into Frank Bertenelli's backyard.

Several bodies lay scattered across the yard. This Chien Na Wei woman has made quick work of Frank Bertenelli's security. Perhaps this is Helena's plan - to just sit back and let the Triad's do her dirty work. _No_ , that wouldn't satisfy her. Helena will be here tonight to take out her father all by herself. Laurel has seen her rage and seen her pain. Only death by her own hands will satisfy Laurel's former comrade.

A couple of Triad men spot them. Oliver manages to hit one with his arrow. The other points his gun at Oliver. Laurel steps forward and screams. The man drops his gun and falls to the ground. Oliver sends an arrow into the Triad, leaving him dead.

"So much for keeping a low profile," Laurel says to herself.

"By now, Bertinelli is well aware that someone is coming for him," Oliver replies. "It's not a big deal."

They run through the yard and come across more slain men. These ones are triads. One is a bullet wound and the other is an arrow. Laurel glances to Oliver.

"She must be working with someone new," Laurel says.

" _Helena!_ " a familiar voice calls.

"God damnit!" Oliver hisses. "Tommy…"

Laurel follows Oliver. She thinks back to the bullet. Tommy Merlyn - billionaire playboy - made a clean shot at a Triad. "Isn't it suspicious to you that Tommy has not only managed to hold his own after he was kidnapped, but now is able to take down a trained Triad?"

"Luck maybe," Oliver says. "Who would train him to fight this well? This isn't stuff you learn at your local gym."

Laurel stops. Helena is arguing with a black hooded Tommy. Both his hands are on her shoulders. Laurel and Oliver move quietly, trying to get close enough to hear.

"I need to do this, Tommy," she says to him. "You wouldn't understand…"

"My mother was murdered, Helena, by some damn thug in the glades," he says. "I do understand."

"Then, let me do this!" she shouts.

" _Alright_...alright…" he says. "But, I'm coming with you."

" _Fuck!_ " Oliver hisses.

Laurel follows Oliver who is now in direct pursuit of Helena and Tommy. Tommy shoots into a sliding glass door, shattering the glass into several tiny shards. Helena and Tommy enter the house and disappear around the right corner.

Laurel grabs her staff from her belt. She presses the button to deploy it to its full size. One of Bertenelli's comes at her from her left. She swings her staff directly at his head, knocking him unconscious. She follows Oliver up a staircase. Several Triad and Bertenelli affiliated men lay dead with either arrow or bullet wounds. _Tommy_. Laurel never thought he had it in him to kill another person.

They can hear arguing from the other side of a door. Oliver kicks the door down in one swift kick. Both Tommy and Helena turn with gun and crossbow raised. Helena's eyes meet Laurel's. Her hand shakes as her crossbow is pointed to Laurel. Frank Bertenelli lays screaming as his hands clutch against an arrow protruding from his legs.

"Don't shoot her," Helena says to Tommy.

"Why?" he asks.

"Just don't, _okay!_ " Helena says as turns her focus back to Laurel. " _Black Canary._ "

" _Huntress_ ," Laurel replies.

"It seems as if you've replaced me," she says to Laurel as her eyes shifts to the Oliver. " _Oliver Queen_ …of course it would be you."

"Helena, I know Oliver," Tommy says. "That's not…"

Helena rolls her eyes. "You're that damn blind, Tommy. You spend time with both of them almost everyday, and you can't see what's right in front of you."

Tommy's gun shakes in his hands. "Is...is it true?"

Oliver doesn't answer. Laurel clutches her staff. Tommy's hand is still shaking. He shifts his gaze to her and back to Oliver.

"You saved...Laurel…" he pauses and glances back to Laurel. " _The vaccines_...Laurel... _you and Laurel…"_

A gunshot goes off, nearly missing Oliver. Tommy turns to where Frank Bertenelli is laying with gun in hand. He fires bullet after bullet until the clip is empty. Frank Bertenelli collapses on the floor in a pool of his own blood. Helena is walking to him. She crouches before him. Her hand touches his lifeless body. Tommy crouches next to her. His arms around hers as she starts to sob.

"He's gone," she sobs. "He's really gone."

"We have to go," Oliver says. "The police will be here soon."

Tommy turns and nods to Oliver. Him and Helena rise, Tommy's arms still around her. They both walk towards them. Helena holds her hand out in some sort of truce to Laurel. Laurel doesn't take Helena's hand. She holds both arms open and both of them embrace.

"I missed you," Helena says.

"I missed you too…" Laurel says.

* * *

 _ **AN:** I knew from the get go that Helena would be redeemed. It only makes sense since she will be used in a Birds of Prey centric plot later on. So...now you know my version of OTA is Oliver, Laurel, and Tommy since Tommy will be signing up on the team after this chapter. Thank you all again for all your reviews and kind words. It makes me so happy there are other fans of Laurel and other people that hated how the show did a disservice to the character._


	19. Barry Allen

**_AN:_** _Thank you all for your comments! I always love hearing from all of you. This chapter is going to have a twist that I think a lot of Laurel fans will love. The villain that is introduced in this chapter is the very reason I started writing again, because this specific character just really pissed me off in the new season. I think you all will love it!_

 _ **A Caged Bird**_

 _Barry Allen_

 _Barry Allen_. He's supposed to be some hot shot forensic scientist from Central City. Whenever the Starling City forensic team are at a loss, they send their material to Allen. Allen always delivers. Laurel has never met Barry Allen face to face before, but she's heard nothing but great things from the people that have met him. To finally meet a man spoken so highly is a bit overwhelming considering the circumstances behind their meeting. Still, Laurel is looking forward to finally meeting him.

Laurel enters the police station with Oliver by her side. She hates dealing with Vertigo's trial. She hates being constantly reminded that the man still exists. Sometimes she wishes that she had killed him. Oliver would have. Helena would have. Even Tommy would have killed him if he got close enough to him. Laurel - she wants to believe in a different kind of justice. She wants to believe that the legal system still works. Judge Grell, Adam Donner, and all the other corrupt judges and lawyers won't stop her from trying to bring justice back to Starling City.

Her father is standing next to a tall, thin man dressed in a black suit. The brunette man has this youthful smile upon his face when her eyes meet his. Is this the Barry Allen people speak so highly of? Laurel notices that Oliver shifts uneasily at the sight of this man. The man extends his arm out to Laurel. Laurel takes it.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you Miss Lance. I'm Barry Allen," Barry says. "I look forward to working with you."

"It's nice to finally meet you Mr. Allen," Laurel says. "I've heard so many good things about you."

Barry extends his hand to Oliver. "And, you are Oliver Queen I presume. Detective Lance has said so many good things about you."

Oliver is hesitant, but finally takes Barry's hand in his. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Allen."

"If you'll follow me, I'd like to explain some of the evidence before we go to trial," Barry says.

Laurel and Oliver follow her father and Barry. Laurel eyes Oliver. He looks uncomfortable. It's confusing to her. Laurel shakes it off. It's been a hard situation for everyone close to her. Her nerves are so high that she's probably just imagining all of it.

Barry opens the door into a small conference room. A single beige folder sits in the center of the table. Barry takes his seat first. Her father sits next to Barry. Oliver and Laurel take their seats, Laurel across from her father and Oliver across from Barry. Oliver is still looking to Barry as if he knows him, but Barry looks completely oblivious to it all. Laurel ignores it. It's just Oliver being his protective self. Her nerves are making her imagine situations that are completely non-existent.

"I looked over the evidence," Barry says as he opens the beige folder. He sets two separate pieces of paper in front of her and Oliver. There are images of compounds, and there are equations that she could only dream to understand. Laurel looks up to Barry, waiting for him to explain whatever is on the paper.

"These here," Barry points to the first page. "These are two substances that were found in Tiffany Thomas's bloodstream at the time of her arrest. The first was is a substance very similar to what's on the second page. It's street name is Vertigo, and accidental overdoses are more common than the prescription drug compound Oxycontin. The second compound is linked to Votura. I am of the belief that Tiffany Thomas never consented to engage in prostitution with James Warner that night. I believe she was drugged at the club she worked at and raped. The arresting officer was a new woman on the force by the name of Tina Boland. She handled the case. Miss De La Vega wishes to interview her, but Boland is being difficult."

Her father scoffs. "That idiot…"

"Do you work closely with Officer Boland, Detective Lance?" Barry asks.

"Not closely," her father says. "I'm just unfortunate enough to be graced with her presence once in awhile."

"I had Miss De La Vega do some digging for me on the entire case," Barry continues. "It appears that Thomas insisted she was drugged and she had no control over her actions. I do not even believe her Public Attorney believed her since the most he did for her was get her a plea bargain. She spent some time in a psychiatric ward after serving her assigned jail time. She was arrested twice for driving under the influence years after her first arrest. De La Vega plans to interview her this week. Maybe she can help with your trial, Miss Lance."

Laurel looks down at both pieces of paper. She eyes the first one and tries to imagine what kind of life Tiffany Thomas must have led. The poor girl was gaslighted by an irresponsible police officer. Ten years of living with the stigma of being a prostitute and shamed for a crime she hadn't even committed. Then, on top of that, being institutionalized for telling the truth. It's no wonder this Tiffany Thomas turned to alcohol.

Justice, at least the kind Laurel wants to believe in, is gone. The legal system has always been polluted with people that abuse their power. These people are why this city needs her and Oliver. In a world with a corrupt legal system, vigilantes might be the only one to deliver the justice that these criminals deserve.

"We need to clear her name," Laurel says. "Tiffany Thomas is just as much a victim as I am, and she's been haunted by all this stigma for ten years."

Barry takes both of the sheets of paper and places them back into the beige folder. He rises from his seat. Her father rises to his seat and shakes Barry's hand with a "thank you". Barry turns to both Laurel and Oliver. "It was such a pleasure to meet you, Miss Lance. You too, Mr. Queen."

"It was nice to meet you too, Mr. Allen," Laurel replies.

Barry exits the room, leaving the three of them alone in the conference room. Laurel lets out a deep breath and tries to force away all the lingering trauma. She needs to get out of this room. She needs to just be alone for one moment. Coffee - that will help.

"I'm going to go get some coffee," Laurel says. "I'll be right back."

Laurel leaves the room and walks down the halls till she reaches a small table. She grabs a styrofoam cup and pours herself a hot cup of coffee. She sips the coffee as she tries to ground herself. She needs to be strong for her father and for Sara. She needs to be strong for this city that needs people like her. She can't just fall apart again. She just can't.

"Laurel!"

Laurel is pulled from her thoughts as she looks to see who is calling her name. She sees Helena's with wide eyes. She is looking to Laurel from across the hall. Laurel sees two cops - one male and the other female. Helena's hands are in handcuffs. Laurel advances on both cops without even a thought.

"What is the meaning of this?" Laurel asks.

"Dinah Laurel Lance," the woman says. "You no longer work for the District Attorney's Office. This is police business. I'm going to ask you to step aside."

Laurel eyes the woman's name tag. Boland. She feels anger rise in her chest at the sight of this woman's name. How dare Tina Boland address her by her full name as if she knows her? Heat burns in her veins and the temptation to screech at this woman is so strong. Laurel tenses as she takes one more step towards her. She crosses both of her arms and looks directly into her eyes.

"No, I don't work for the District Attorney's Office," Laurel says. "I work for The Law Offices of Jean Loring. Helena Bertinelli is now a client of ours. I wish to know why she has been placed under arrest."

Boland scoffs at Laurel. "There was a huge gang war at her father's estate. We believe that your client played a part in Frank Bertinelli's family business."

"On what grounds," Laurel says. "I want to see an arrest warrant."

Boland procures a piece of paper from her pocket and thrusts it at Laurel. Laurel takes the paper in hand. She skims over the piece of paper, spotting Judge Grell's name signed at the bottom. She boils with anger. This man had wanted to dispose of her for pushing against his corruption months ago, and she has a sick feeling that he had set Vertigo on her to silence her. She's half tempted to tear the paper to shreds in Boland's ugly, smug face. Laurel reminds herself to be professional, and returns the paper to Boland. The woman sneers at her as she pockets the paper.

"You are your father's daughter," Boland sneers at her.

Laurel crosses her arms and stares her down. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Boland's eyes narrow to her. Laurel is mentally imagining screaming at this woman until her ears bleed. Oliver places one hand on Laurel's shoulder, taking Laurel away from her vigilante fantasies. Laurel draws in a deep breath and reminds herself to be calm.

"What's going on?" Oliver says.

"Call Tommy," Laurel says. "Helena's going to need someone to post her bail."

Laurel and Boland stare each other down. Laurel has an awful feeling about this woman. Perhaps she'll pay Barbara visit. If there's any dirt on this woman, Barbara Gordon is the only woman that might be able to dig it up.


End file.
